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9 


Copyright,  1866, 
BY  JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 

Copyright,  1885, 
BY  HOUQHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

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"  Multos  enim,  quibus  loqtiendi  ratio  non  desit,  invenias,  quos 
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QUISTILIANUS. 

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CBONICA  JOCELINI. 

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matin." 

££YL£. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION 9 

TUB  COUKTIN' 91 

No.  I.  — BlRDOFREDUM      SAWIN,      ESQ.,       TO       MR. 

HOSEA  BIGLOW 97 

No.  II.  —  MASON  AND  SLIDELL  :  A  YANKEE  IDYLL  126 

NO.  III.  —  BlRDOFREIJUM      SAWIN,     ESQ.,     TO     MR. 

HOSEA  BIGLOW 163 

No.  IV.  —  A  MESSAGE  OF  JEFF  DAVIS  IN  SECRET 

SESSION 194 

No.  V.  —  SPEECH    OF    HON.    PRESERVED   DOE  IN 

SECRET  CAUCUS 211 

No.  VI.  —  SUNTHIN'  IN  THE  PASTORAL  LINE   .     .  232 
No.  VII.  —  LATEST  VIEWS  OF  MR.  BIGLOW     .     .  247 

No.  VIII.  —  KETTELOPOTOMACHIA 263 

No.  IX.  — TABLE-TALK   .  .274 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

No.  X.  —  MR.  HOSEA  BIGLOW  TO  THE  EDITOR  OF 
THE  ATLANTIC  MONTHLY 287 

No.  XL  —  MR.     HOSEA     BIGLOW'S     SPEECH     IN 

MARCH  MEETING 294 

INDEX .317 


INTRODUCTION. 

THOUGH  prefaces  seem  of  late  to  have 
fallen  under  some  reproach,  they  have  at 
least  this  advantage,  that  they  set  us  again 
on  the  feet  of  our  personal  consciousness, 
and  rescue  us  from  the  gregarious  mock- 
modesty  or  cowardice  of  that  we  which 
shrills  feebly  throughout  modern  literature 
like  the  shrieking  of  mice  in  the  walls  of  a 
house  that  has  passed  its  prime.  Having  a 
few  words  to  say  to  the  many  friends  whom 
the  "  Biglow  Papers  "  have  won  me,  I  shall 
accordingly  take  the  freedom  of  the  first 
person  singular  of  the  personal  pronoun. 
Let  each  of  the  good-natured  unknown  who 
have  cheered  me  by  the  written  communica 
tion  of  their  sympathy  look  upon  this  Intro 
duction  as  a  private  letter  to  himself. 

When,  more  than  twenty  years  ago,  I 
wrote  the  first  of  the  series,  I  had  no  defi 
nite  plan  and  no  intention  of  ever  writ 
ing  another.  Thinking  the  Mexican  war, 
as  I  think  it  still,  a  national  crime  com- 


10  INT  ROD  UC  Tl  ON. 

mitted  in  behoof  of  Slavery,  our  common 
sin,  and  wishing  to  put  the  feeling  of  those 
who  thought  as  I  did  in  a  way  that  would 
tell,  I  imagined  to  myself  such  an  up-coun 
try  man  as  I  had  often  seen  at  anti-slavery 
gatherings,  capable  of  district-school  Eng 
lish,  but  always  instinctively  falling  back 
into  the  natural  stronghold  of  his  homely 
dialect  when  heated  to  the  point  of  self-for- 
getfulness.  When  I  began  to  carry  out  my 
conception  and  to  write  in  my  assumed  char 
acter,  I  found  myself  in  a  strait  between  two 
perils.  On  the  one  hand,  I  was  in  danger 
of  being  carried  beyond  the  limit  of  my  own 
opinions,  or  at  least  of  that  temper  with 
which  every  man  should  speak  his  mind  in 
print,  and  on  the  other  I  feared  the  risk  of 
seeming  to  vulgarize  a  deep  and  sacred  con 
viction.  I  needed  on  occasion  to  rise  above 
the  level  of  mere  patois,  and  for  this  pur 
pose  conceived  the  Reverend  Mr.  Wilbur, 
who  should  express  the  more  cautious  ele 
ment  of  the  New  England  character  and  its 
pedantry,  as  Mr.  Biglow  should  serve  for  its 
homely  common- sense  vivified  and  heated  by 
conscience.  The  parson  was  to  be  the  com 
plement  rather  than  the  antithesis  of  his 
parishioner,  and  I  felt  or  fancied  a  certain 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

humorous  element  in  the  real  identity  of 
the  t\Vo  under  a  seeming  incongruity.  Mr. 
Wilbur's  fondness  for  scraps  of  Latin, 
though  drawn  from  the  life,  I  adopted  de 
liberately  to  heighten  the  contrast.  Finding 
soon  after  that  I  needed  some  one  as  a 
mouthpiece  of  the  mere  drollery,  for  I  con 
ceive  that  true  humor  is  never  divorced  from 
moral  conviction,  I  invented  Mr.  Sawin  for 
the  clown  of  my  little  puppet-show.  I  meant 
to  embody  in  him  that  half-conscious  immo 
rality  which  I  had  noticed  as  the  recoil  in 
gross  natures  from  a  puritanism  that  still 
strove  to  keep  in  its  creed  the  intense  savor 
which  had  long  gone  out  of  its  faith  and  life. 
In  the  three  I  thought  I  should  find  room 
enough  to  express,  as  it  was  my  plan  to  do, 
the  popular  feeling  and  opinion  of  the  time. 
For  the  names  of  two  of  my  characters, 
since  I  have  received  some  remonstrances 
from  very  worthy  persons  who  happened  to 
bear  them,  I  would  say  that  they  were  pure 
ly  fortuitous,  probably  mere  unconscious 
memories  of  signboards  or  directories.  Mr. 
Sawin's  sprang  from  the  accident  of  a  rhyme 
at  the  end  of  his  first  epistle,  and  I  purpose 
ly  christened  him  by  the  impossible  surname 
of  Birdofredum  not  more  to  stigmatize  him 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

as  the  incarnation  of  "Manifest  Destiny," 
in  other  words,  of  national  recklessness  as  to 
right  and  wrong,  than  to  avoid  the  chance  of 
wounding  any  private  sensitiveness. 

The  success  of  my  experiment  soon  began 
not  only  to  astonish  me,  but  to  make  me  feel 
the  responsibility  of  knowing  that  I  held  in 
my  hand  a  weapon  instead  of  the  mere  fen 
cing-stick  I  had  supposed.  Very  far  from 
being  a  popular  author  under  my  own  name, 
so  far,  indeed,  as  to  be  almost  unread,  I 
found  the  verses  of  my  pseudonym  copied 
everywhere  :  I  saw  them  pinned  up  in  work 
shops  ;  I  heard  them  quoted  and  their  au 
thorship  debated ;  I  once  even,  when  rumor 
had  at  length  caught  up  my  name  in  one  of 
its  eddies,  had  the  satisfaction  of  overhear 
ing  it  demonstrated,  in  the  pauses  of  a  con 
cert,  that  /  was  utterly  incompetent  to  have 
written  anything  of  the  kind.  I  had  read 
too  much  not  to  know  the  utter  worthless- 
ness  of  contemporary  reputation,  especially 
as  regards  satire,  but  I  knew  also  that  by 
giving  a  certain  amount  of  influence  it  also 
had  its  worth,  if  that  influence  were  used  on 
the  right  side.  I  had  learned,  too,  that  the 
first  requisite  of  good  writing  is  to  have  an 
earnest  and  definite  purpose,  whether  ses- 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

thetic  or  moral,  and  that  even  good  writing, 
to  please  long,  must  have  more  than  an  av 
erage  amount  either  of  imagination  or  com 
mon-sense.  The  first  of  these  falls  to  the 
lot  of  scarcely  one  in  several  generations ; 
the  last  is  within  the  reach  of  many  in  every 
one  that  passes ;  and  of  this  an  author  may 
fairly  hope  to  become  in  part  the  mouth 
piece.  If  I  put  on  the  cap  and  bells  and 
made  myself  one  of  the  court-fools  of  King 
Demos,  it  was  less  to  make  his  majesty 
laugh  than  to  win  a  passage  to  his  royal 
ears  for  certain  serious  things  which  I  had 
deeply  at  heart.  I  say  this  because  there  is 
no  imputation  that  couid  be  more  galling  to 
any  man's  self-respect  than  that  of  being  a 
mere  jester.  I  endeavored,  by  generalizing 
my  satire,  to  give  it  what  value  I  could  be 
yond  the  passing  moment  and  the  immedi 
ate  application.  How  far  I  have  succeeded 
I  cannot  tell,  but  I  have  had  better  luck  than 
I  ever  looked  for  in  seeing  my  verses  sur 
vive  to  pass  beyond  their  nonage. 

In  choosing  the  Yankee  dialect,  I  did  not 
act  without  forethought.  It  had  long  seemed 
to  me  that  the  great  vice  of  American  writ 
ing  and  speaking  was  a  studied  want  of 
simplicity,  that  we  were  in  danger  of  coming 


14  JNTROD  UCTION. 

to  look  on  our  mother-tongue  as  a  dead  lan 
guage,  to  be  sought  in  the  grammar  and  dic 
tionary  rather  than  in  the  heart,  and  that 
our  only  chance  of  escape  was  by  seeking  it 
at  its  living  sources  among  those  who  were, 
as  Scottowe  says  of  Major-General  Gibbons, 
"  divinely  illiterate."  President  Lincoln,  the 
only  really  great  public  man  whom  these 
latter  days  have  seen,  was  great  also  in  this, 
that  he  was  master  —  witness  his  speech  at 
Gettysburg  —  of  a  truly  masculine  English, 
classic  because  it  was  of  no  special  period, 
and  level  at  once  to  the  highest  and  lowest 
of  his  countrymen.  But  whoever  should  read 
the  debates  in  Congress  might  fancy  himself 
present  at  a  meeting  of  the  city  council  of 
some  city  of  southern  Gaul  in  the  decline 
of  the  Empire,  where  barbarians  with  a 
Latin  varnish  emulated  each  other  in  being 
more  than  Ciceronian.  Whether  it  be  want 
of  culture,  for  the  highest  outcome  of  that 
is  simplicity,  or  for  whatever  reason,  it  is 
certain  that  very  few  American  writers  or 
speakers  wield  their  native  language  with  the 
directness,  precision,  and  force  that  are  com 
mon  as  the  day  in  the  mother  country.  We 
use  it  like  Scotsmen,  not  as  if  it  belonged  to 
us,  but  as  if  we  wished  to  prove  that  we  be- 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

long  to  it,  by  showing  our  intimacy  with  its 
written  rather  than  with  its  spoken  dialect. 
And  yet  all  the  while  our  popular  idiom  is 
racy  with  life  and  vigor  and  originality,  buck- 
some  (as  Milton  used  the  word)  to  our  new 
occasions,  and  proves  itself  no  mere  graft 
by  sending  up  new  suckers  from  the  old  root 
in  spite  of  us.  It  is  only  from  its  roots  in 
the  living  generations  of  men  that  a  lan 
guage  can  be  reinforced  with  fresh  vigor  for 
its  needs ;  what  may  be  called  a  literate 
dialect  grows  ever  more  and  more  pedantic 
and  foreign,  till  it  becomes  at  last  as  unfit 
ting  a  vehicle  for  living  thought  as  monkish 
Latin.  That  we  should  all  be  made  to  talk 
like  books  is  the  danger  with  which  we  are 
threatened  by  the  Universal  Schoolmaster, 
who  does  his  best  to  enslave  the  minds  and 
memories  of  his  victims  to  what  he  esteems 
the  best  models  of  English  composition,  that 
is  to  say,  to  the  writers  whose  style  is  faultily 
correct  and  has  no  blood-warmth  in  it.  No 
language  after  it  has  faded  into  diction, 
none  that  cannot  suck  up  the  feeding  juices 
secreted  for  it  in  the  rich  mother-earth  of 
common  folk,  can  bring  forth  a  sound  and 
lusty  book.  True  vigor  and  heartiness  of 
phrase  do  not  pass  from  page  to  page,  but 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

from  man  to  man,  where  the  brain  is  kindled 
and  the  lips  supplied  by  downright  living 
interests  and  by  passion  in  its  very  throe. 
Language  is  the  soil  of  thought,  and  our 
own  especially  is  a  rich  leaf-mould,  the  slow 
deposit  of  ages,  the  shed  foliage  of  feeling, 
fancy,  and  imagination,  which  has  suffered 
an  earth-change,  that  the  vocal  forest,  as 
Howell  called  it,  may  clothe  itself  anew 
with  living  green.  There  is  death  in  the  dic 
tionary  ;  and,  where  language  is  too  strictly 
limited  by  convention,  the  ground  for  ex 
pression  to  grow  in  is  limited  also  ;  and  we 
get  a  potted  literature,  —  Chinese  dwarfs 
instead  of  healthy  trees. 

But  while  the  schoolmaster  has  been  busy 
starching  our  language  and  smoothing  it  flat 
with  the  mangle  of  a  supposed  classical  au 
thority,  the  newspaper  reporter  has  been  do 
ing  even  more  harm  by  stretching  and  swell 
ing  it  to  suit  his  occasions.  A  dozen  years 
ago  I  began  a  list,  which  I  have  added  to 
from  time  to  time,  of  some  of  the  changes 
which  may  be  fairly  laid  at  his  door.  I  give 
a  few  of  them  as  showing  their  tendency,  all 
the  more  dangerous  that  their  effect,  like 
that  of  some  poisons,  is  insensibly  cumula 
tive,  and  that  they  are  sure  at  last  of  effect 


INTRODUCTION. 


17 


among  a  people  whose  chief  reading  is  the 
daily  paper.  I  give  in  two  columns  the  old 
style  and  its  modern  equivalent. 


Old  Style. 

Was  hanged. 

When    the    halter  was    put 
round  his  neck. 


A  great  crowd  came  to  see. 

Great  fire. 
The  fire  spread. 

House  burned. 

The  fire  was  got  under. 

Man  fell. 

A    horse    and    wagon    ran 
against. 


The  frightened  horse. 
Sent  for  the  doctor. 


The  mayor  of  the  city  in  a 
short  speech  welcomed. 


I  shall  sav  a  few  words. 


New  Style. 

Was  launched  into  eternity. 
When  the  fatal  noose  was  ad 
justed  about  the  neck  of  the 
unfortunate    victim  of    his 
own  unbridled  passions. 
A    vast    concourse    was    as 
sembled  to  witness. 
Disastrous  conflagration. 
The    conflagration    extended 

its  devastating  career. 
Edifice  consumed. 
The  progress  of  the  devour 
ing  element  was  arrested. 
Individual  was  precipitated. 
A  valuable  horse  attached  to 
a  vehicle  driven  by  J.  S., 
in  the  employment  of  J.  B., 
collided  with. 
The  infuriated  animal. 
Called    into    requisition    the 
services  of  the  family  phy 
sician. 

The  chief  magistrate  of  the 
metropolis,  in  well-chosen 
and  eloquent  language,  fre 
quently  interrupted  by  the 
plaudits  of  the  surging  mul 
titude,  officially  tendered  the 
hospitalities. 

I  shall,  with  your  permission, 
beg  leave  to  offer  some  brief 
observations. 


1 8  INTROD  UCTION. 

Began  his  answer.  Commenced  his  rejoinder. 

A  bystander  advised.  One  of  those  omnipresent  char 

acters  who,  as  if  in  pursuance 
of  some  previous  arrange 
ment,  are  certain  to  be  en 
countered  in  the  vicinity 
when  an  accident  occurs, 
ventured  the  suggestion. 

He  died.  He  deceased,  he  passed  out  of 

existence,  his  spirit  quitted 
its  earthly  habitation, winged 
its  way  to  eternity,  shook  off 
its  burden,  etc. 

In  one  sense  this  is  nothing  new.  The 
school  of  Pope  in  verse  ended  by  wire 
drawing  its  phrase  to  such  thinness  that  it 
could  bear  no  weight  of  meaning  whatever. 
Nor  is  fine  writing  by  any  means  confined 
to  America.  All  writers  without  imagina 
tion  fall  into  it  of  necessity  whenever  they 
attempt  the  figurative.  I  take  two  examples 
from  Mr.  Merivale's  "  History  of  the  Ro 
mans  under  the  Empire,"  which,  indeed,  is 
full  of  such.  "  The  last  years  of  the  age 
familiarly  styled  the  Augustan  were  singu 
larly  barren  of  the  literary  glories  from 
which  its  celebrity  was  chiefly  derived.  One 
by  one  the  stars  in  its  firmament  had  been 
lost  to  the  world;  Virgil  and  Horace,  etc., 
had  long  since  died ;  the  charm  which 
the  imagination  of  Livy  had  thrown  over 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

the  earlier  annals  of  Rome  had  ceased  to 
shine  On  the  details  of  almost  contemporary 
history;  and  if  the  flood  of  his  eloquence 
still  continued  flowing1,  we  can  hardly  sup 
pose  that  the  stream  was  as  rapid,  as  fresh, 
and  as  clear  as  ever."  I  will  not  waste  time 
in  criticising  the  bad  English  or  the  mixture 
of  metaphor  in  these  sentences,  but  will 
simply  cite  another  from  the  same  author 
which  is  even  worse.  "  The  shadowy  phan 
tom  of  the  Republic  continued  to  flit  before 
the  eyes  of  the  Caesar.  There  was  still,  he 
apprehended,  a  germ  of  sentiment  existing, 
on  which  a  scion  of  his  own  house,  or  even 
a  stranger,  might  boldly  throw  himself  and 
raise  the  standard  of  patrician  independ 
ence."  Now  a  ghost  may  haunt  a  murderer, 
but  hardly,  I  should  think,  to  scare  him  with 
the  threat  of  taking  a  new  lease  of  its  old 
tenement.  And  fancy  the  scion  of  a  house 
in  the  act  of  throwing  itself  upon  a  germ  of 
sentiment  to  raise  a  standard  f  I  am  glad, 
since  we  have  so  much  in  the  same  kind  to 
answer  for,  that  this  bit  of  horticultural 
rhetoric  is  from  beyond  sea.  I  would  not 
be  supposed  to  condemn  truly  imaginative 
prose.  There  is  a  simplicity  of  splendor, 
no  less  than  of  plainness,  and  prose  would 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

be  poor  indeed  if  it  could  not  find  a  tongue 
for  that  meaning  of  the  mind  which  is  be 
hind  the  meaning  of  the  words.  It  has 
sometimes  seemed  to  me  that  in  England 
there  was  a  growing  tendency  to  curtail  lan 
guage  into  a  mere  convenience,  and  to  defe 
cate  it  of  all  emotion  as  thoroughly  as  alge 
braic  signs.  This  has  arisen,  no  doubt,  in 
part  from  that  healthy  national  contempt  of 
humbug  which  is  characteristic  of  English- 

O  O 

men,  in  part  from  that  sensitiveness  to  the 
ludicrous  which  makes  them  so  shy  of  ex 
pressing  feeling,  but  in  part  also,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  from  a  growing  distrust,  one  might 
almost  say  hatred,  of  whatever  is  super- 
material.  There  is  something  sad  in  the 
scorn  with  which  their  journalists  treat  the 
notion  of  there  being  such  a  thing  as  a  na 
tional  ideal,  seeming  utterly  to  have  forgot 
ten  that  even  in  the  affairs  of  this  world 
the  imagination  is  as  much  matter-of-fact  as 
the  understanding.  If  we  were  to  trust  the 
impression  made  on  us  by  some  of  the  clev 
erest  and  most  characteristic  of  their  peri 
odical  literature,  we  should  think  England 
hopelessly  stranded  on  the  good-humored 
cynicism  of  well-to-do  middle-age,  and  should 
fancy  it  an  enchanted  nation,  doomed  to  sit 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

forever  with  its  feet  under  the  mahogany  in 
that  after-dinner  inood  which  follows  con 
scientious  repletion,  and  which  it  is  ill-man 
ners  to  disturb  with  any  topics  more  exciting 
than  the  quality  of  the  wines.  But  there 
are  already  symptoms  that  a  large  class  of 
Englishmen  are  getting  weary  of  the  do 
minion  of  consols  and  divine  common-sense, 
and  to  believe  that  eternal  three  per  cent  is 
not  the  chief  end  of  man,  nor  the  highest 
and  only  kind  of  interest  to  which  the  powers 
and  opportunities  of  England  are  entitled. 

The  quality  of  exaggeration  has  often 
been  remarked  on  as  typical  of  American 
character,  and  especially  of  American  humor. 
In  Dr.  Petri's  Gedrangtes  Handbuch  der 
fremdworter,  we  are  told  that  the  word 
humbug  is  commonly  used  for  the  exaggera 
tions  of  the  North  Americans.  To  be  sure, 
one  would  be  tempted  to  think  the  dream 
of  Columbus  half  fulfilled,  and  that  Europe 
had  found  in  the  West  a  nearer  way  to 
Orientalism,  at  least  in  diction.  But  it 
seems  to  me  that  a  great  deal  of  what  is  set 
down  as  mere  extravagance  is  more  fitly 
to  be  called  intensity  and  picturesque  ness, 
symptoms  of  the  imaginative  faculty  in  full 
health  and  strength,  though  producing,  as 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

yet,  only  the  raw  and  formless  material  in 
which  poetry  is  to  work.  By  and  by,  per 
haps,  the  world  will  see  it  fashioned  into 
poem  and  picture,  and  Europe,  which  will 
be  hard  pushed  for  originality  erelong,  may 
have  to  thank  us  for  a  new  sensation.  The 
French  continue  to  find  Shakespeare  exag 
gerated  because  he  treated  English  just  as 
our  country-folk  do  when  they  speak  of  a 
"  steep  price,"  or  say  that  they  "  freeze  to  " 
a  thing.  The  first  postulate  of  an  original 
literature  is  that  a  people  should  use  their 
language  instinctively  and  unconsciously,  as 
if  it  were  a  lively  part  of  their  growth  and 
personality,  not  as  the  mere  torpid  boon  of 
education  or  inheritance.  Even  Burns  con 
trived  to  write  very  poor  verse  and  prose  in 
English.  Vulgarisms  are  often  only  poetry 
in  the  egg.  The  late  Mr.  Horace  Mann,  in 
one  of  his  public  addresses,  commented  at 
some  length  on  the  beauty  and  moral  sig 
nificance  of  the  French  phrase  s'orienter, 
and  called  on  his  young  friends  to  practise 
upon  it  in  life.  There  was  not  a  Yankee  in 
his  audience  whose  problem  had  not  always 
been  to  find  out  what  was  about  east,  and  to 
shape  his  course  accordingly.  This  charm 
which  a  familiar  expression  gains  by  being 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

commented,  as  it  were,  and  set  in  a  new  light 
by  a  foreign  language,  is  curious  and  instruc 
tive.  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  Mr.  Mat 
thew  Arnold  forgets  this  a  little  too  much 
sometimes  when  he  writes  of  the  beauties  of 
French  style.  It  would  not  be  hard  to  find 
in  the  works  of  French  Academicians  phrases 
as  coarse  as  those  he  cites  from  Burke,  only 
they  are  veiled  by  the  unfamiliarity  of  the 
language.  But,  however  this  may  be,  it  is 
certain  that  poets  and  peasants  please  us 
in  the  same  way  by  translating  words  back 
again  to  their  primal  freshness,  and  infusing 
them  with  a  delightful  strangeness  which  is 
anything  but  alienation.  What,  for  example, 
is  Milton's  "  edge  of  battle  "  but  a  doing  into 
English  of  the  Latin  acies  ?  Was  die  Gans 
gedacht  das  der  Schwan  vollbi'acht,  what  the 
goose  but  thought,  that  the  swan  full  brought 
(or,  to  de-Saxonize  it  a  little,  what  the  goose 
conceived,  that  the  swan  achieved),  and  it 
may  well  be  that  the  life,  invention,  and 
vigor  shown  by  our  popular  speech,  and  the 
freedom  with  which  it  is  shaped  to  the  in 
stant  want  of  those  who  use  it,  are  of  the 
best  omen  for  our  having  a  swan  at  last. 
The  part  I  have  taken  on  myself  is  that  of 
the  humbler  bird. 


24  INTRODUCTION. 

But  it  is  affirmed  that  there  is  something 
innately  vulgar  in  the  Yankee  dialect.  M. 
Sainte-Beuve  says,  with  his  usual  neatness : 
"  Je  d&finis  un  patois  une  ancienne  la?igue 
qui  a  eu  des  malheurs,  ou  encore  une  langue 
toute  jeune  et  qui  n'a  pas  faite  fortune" 
The  first  part  of  his  definition  applies  to  a 
dialect  like  the  Provencal,  the  last  to  the 
Tuscan  before  Dante  had  lifted  it  into  a 
classic,  and  neither,  it  seems  to  me,  will  quite 
fit  a  patois,  which  is  not  properly  a  dialect, 
but  rather  certain  archaisms,  proverbial 
phrases,  and  modes  of  pronunciation,  which 
maintain  themselves  among  the  uneducated 
side  by  side  with  the  finished  and  universally 
accepted  language.  Norman  French,  for  ex 
ample,  or  Scotch  down  to  the  time  of  James 
VI.,  could  hardly  be  called  patois,  while  I 
should  be  half  inclined  to  name  the  Yankee 
a  lingo  rather  than  a  dialect.  It  has  re 
tained  a  few  words  now  fallen  into  disuse  in 
the  mother  country,  like  to  tarry,  to  pro 
gress,  fleshy,  fall,  and  some  others ;  it  has 
changed  the  meaning  of  some,  as  in  freshet; 
and  it  has  clung  to  what  I  suspect  to  have 
been  the  broad  Norman  pronunciation  of  e 
(which  Molie~re  puts  into  the  mouth  of  his 
rustics)  in  such  words  as  sarvant,  parfect, 


I  NT  ROD  UCTION.  25 

vartoo,  and  the  like.  It  maintains  some 
thing  .of  the  French  sound  of  a  also  in  words 
like  chamber,  danger  (though  the  latter  had 
certainly  begun  to  take  its  present  sound  so 
early  as  1636,  when  I  find  it  sometimes  spelt 
dainger).  But  in  general  it  may  be  said 
that  nothing  can  be  found  in  it  which  does 
not  still  survive  in  some  one  or  other  of  the 
English  provincial  dialects.  I  am  not  speak 
ing  now  of  Americanisms  properly  so  called, 
that  is,  of  words  or  phrases  which  have 
grown  into  use  here  either  through  necessity, 
invention,  or  accident,  such  as  a  carry,  a 
one-horse  affair,  &  prairie,  to  vamose.  Even 
these  are  fewer  than  is  sometimes  taken  for 
granted.  But  I  think  some  fair  defence 
may  be  made  against  the  charge  of  vulgar 
ity.  Properly  speaking,  vulgarity  is  in  the 
thought,  and  not  in  the  word  or  the  way  of 
pronouncing  it.  Modern  French,  the  most 
polite  of  languages,  is  barbarously  vulgar  if 
compared  with  the  Latin  out  of  which  it  has 
been  corrupted,  or  even  with  Italian.  There 
is  a  wider  gap,  and  one  implying  greater 
boorishness,  between  ministerium  and  m&- 
tier,  or  sapiens  and  sachant,  than  between 
druv  and  drove,  or  agin  and  against,  which 
last  is  plainly  an  arrant  superlative.  Our 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

rustic  coverlid  is  nearer  its  French  original 
than  the  diminutive  cover/e£,  into  which  it 
has  been  ignorantly  corrupted  in  politer 
speech.  I  obtained  from  three  cultivated 
Englishmen  at  different  times  three  diverse 
pronunciations  of  a  single  word,  —  cowcum- 
ber,  coocumber,  and  cucumber.  Of  these  the 
first,  which  is  Yankee  also,  comes  nearest  to 
the  nasality  of  concombre.  Lord  Ossory  as 
sures  us  that  Voltaire  saw  the  best  society 
in  England,  and  Voltaire  tells  his  country 
men  that  handkerchief  was  pronounced  han- 
kercher.  I  find  it  so  spelt  in  Hakluyt  and 
elsewhere.  This  enormity  the  Yankee  still 
persists  in,  and  as  there  is  always  a  reason 
for  such  deviations  from  the  sound  as  repre 
sented  by  the  spelling,  may  we  not  suspect 
two  sources  of  derivation,  and  find  an  ances 
tor  for  kercher  in  couverture  rather  than  in 
couvrecheff  And  wrhat  greater  phonetic  va 
gary  (which  Dry  den,  by  the  way,  called  fe- 
f/ary')  in  our  lingua  rustlca  than  this  ker 
for  couvre  ?  I  copy  from  the  fly-leaves  of 
my  books  where  I  have  noted  them  from 
time  to  time,  a  few  examples  of  pronuncia 
tion  and  phrase  which  will  show  that  the 
Yankee  often  has  antiquity  and  very  respect 
able  literary  authority  on  his  side.  My  list 


INTRODUCTION.  27 

might  be  largely  increased  by  referring  to 
glossaries,  but  to  them  every  one  can  go  for 
himself,  and  I  have  gathered  enough  for  my 
purpose. 

I  will  take  first  those  cases  in  which  some 
thing  like  the  French  sound  has  been  pre 
served  in  certain  single  letters  and  diph 
thongs.  And  this  opens  a  curious  question 
as  to  how  long  this  Gallicism  maintained  it 
self  in  England.  Sometimes  a  divergence 
in  pronunciation  has  given  us  two  words 
with  different  meanings,  as  in  genteel  and 
jaunty,  which  I  find  coming  in  toward  the 
close  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  waver 
ing  between  genteel  and  jantee.  It  is  usual 
in  America  to  drop  the  u  in  words  ending  in 
our,  —  a  very  proper  change  recommended 
by  Howell  two  centuries  ago,  and  carried 
out  by  him  so  far  as  his  printers  would  al 
low.  This  and  the  corresponding  changes 
in  musique,  musick,  and  the  like,  which  he 
also  advocated,  show  that  in  his  time  the 
French  accent  indicated  by  the  superfluous 
letters  (for  French  had  once  nearly  as  strong 
an  accent  as  Italian)  had  gone  out  of  use. 
There  is  plenty  of  French  accent  down  to 
the  end  of  Elizabeth's  reign.  In  Daniel  we 
have  riches'  and  counsel',  in  Bishop  Hall 


28  INTRODUCTION. 

comet',  chapelain,  in  Donne  pictures',  virtue', 
presence',  mortal',  merit',  hainous',  giant', 
with  many  more,  and  Marston's  satires  are 
full  of  them.  The  two  latter,  however,  are 
not  to  be  relied  on,  as  they  may  be  suspected 
of  Chaucerizing.  Herrick  writes  baptime. 
The  tendency  to  throw  the  accent  backward 
began  early.  But  the  incongruities  are  per 
plexing,  and  perhaps  mark  the  period  of 
transition.  In  Warner's  "  Albion's  Eng 
land  "  we  have  creator'  and  creature'  side 
by  side  with  the  modern  creator  and  crea 
ture.  E'nvy  and  dnvying  occur  in  Campion 
(1602),  and  yet  envy'  survived  Milton.  In 
some  cases  we  have  gone  back  again  nearer 
to  the  French,  as  in  rev'enue  for  reven'ue.  I 
had  been  so  used  to  hearing  imbecile  pro 
nounced  with  the  accent  on  the  first  syllable, 
which  is  in  accordance  with  the  general  ten 
dency  in  such  matters,  that  I  was  surprised 
to  find  imbec'ile  in  a  verse  of  Wordsworth. 
The  dictionaries  all  give  it  so.  I  asked  a 
highly  cultivated  Englishman,  and  he  de 
clared  for  imbeceel'.  In  general  it  may  be 
assumed  that  accent  will  finally  settle  on  the 
syllable  dictated  by  greater  ease  and  there 
fore  quickness  of  utterance.  Bias 'phemous, 
for  example,  is  more  rapidly  pronounced 


INTRO D  UCTION.  29 

than  blasphem' ous,  to  which  our  Yankee 
clings^  following  in  this  the  usage  of  many 
of  the  older  poets.  Amer'ican  is  easier 
than  Amen' can,  and  therefore  the  false 
quantity  has  carried  the  day,  though  the  true 
one  may  be  found  in  George  Herbert,  and 
even  so  late  as  Cowley. 

To  come  back  to  the  matter  in  hand. 
Our  "  uplandish  men  "  retain  the  soft  or 
thin  sound  of  the  u  in  some  words,  such  as 
rule,  truth  (sometimes  also  pronounced  truth, 
not  trooth),  while  he  says  noo  for  new,  and, 
gives  to  view  and  few  so  indescribable  a 
mixture  of  the  two  sounds,  with  a  slight  nasal 
tincture,  that  it  may  be  called  the  Yankee 
shibboleth.  In  rule  the  least  sound  of  a 
precedes  the  u.  I  find  reule  in  Pecock's 
"  Represser."  He  probably  pronounced  it 
rayoole,  as  the  old  French  word  from  which 
it  is  derived  was  very  likely  to  be  sounded 
at  first,  with  a  reminiscence  of  its  original 
regula.  Tindal  has  ruder,  and  the  Coven 
try  Plays  have  preudent.  As  for  noo,  may 
it  not  claim  some  sanction  in  its  derivation, 
whether  from  nouveau  or  neuf,  the  ancient 
sound  of  which  may  very  well  have  been 
noqf,  as  nearer  novus  ?  Beef  would  seem 
more  like  to  have  come  from  bujfe  than  from 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

bceiif,  unless  the  two  were  mere  varieties  of 
spelling.  The  Saxon  few  may  have  caught 
enough  from  its  French  cousin  peu  to  claim 
the  benefit  of  the  same  doubt  as  to  sound ; 
and  our  slang  phrase  a  few  (as  "  I  licked 
him  a  few  ")  may  well  appeal  to  un  peu  for 
sense  and  authority.  Nay,  might  not  lick 
itself  turn  out  to  be  the  good  old  word  lam 
in  an  English  disguise,  if  the  latter  should 
claim  descent  as,  perhaps,  he  fairly  might, 
from  the  Latin  lambere  ?  The  New  England 
ferce  for  fierce,  and  perce  for  pierce  (some 
times  heard  as  fairce  and  pairce),  are  also 
Norman.  For  its  antiquity  I  cite  the  rhyme 
of  verse  and  pierce  in  Chapman  and  Donne, 
and  in  some  commendatory  verses  by  a  Mr. 
Berkenhead  before  the  poems  of  Francis 
Beaumont.  Our  pairlous  for  perilous  is  of 
the  same  kind,  and  is  nearer  Shakespeare's 
parlous  than  the  modern  pronunciation. 
One  other  Gallicism  survives  in  our  pronun 
ciation.  Perhaps  I  should  rather  call  it  a 
semi-Gallicism,  for  it  is  the  result  of  a  futile 
effort  to  reproduce  a  French  sound  with 
English  lips.  Thus  for  joint,  employ,  royal, 
we  have  jynt,  emply,  ryle,  the  last  differing 
only  from  rile  (roil)  in  a  prolongation  of 
the  y  sound.  In  Walter  de  Biblesworth  I 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

find  solives  Englished  by  gistes.  This,  it  is 
true,  may  have  been  pronounced  jeests,  but 
the  pronunciation  jystes  must  have  preceded 
the  present  spelling,  which  was  no  doubt 
adopted  after  the  radical  meaning  was  for 
gotten,  as  analogical  with  other  words  in  oi. 
In  the  same  way  after  Norman- French  in 
fluence  had  softened  the  I  out  of  would  (we 
already  find  woud  for  veut  in  N.  F.  poems), 
should  followed  the  example,  and  then  an  I 
was  put  into  could,  where  it  does  not  belong, 
to  satisfy  the  logic  of  the  eye,  which  has  af 
fected  the  pronunciation  and  even  the  spell 
ing  of  English  more  than  is  commonly  sup 
posed.  I  meet  with  eyster  for  oyster  as  early 
as  the  fourteenth  century.  I  find  dystrye 
for  destroy  in  the  Coventry  Plays,  viage  in 
Bishop  Hall  and  Middleton  the  dramatist, 
bile  in  Donne  and  Chrononhotonthologos, 
line  in  Hall,  ryall  and  chyse  (for  choice)  in 
the  Coventry  Plays.  In  Chapman's  "  All 
Fools  "  is  the  misprint  of  employ  for  imply, 
fairly  inferring  an  identity  of  sound  in  the 
last  syllable.  Indeed,  this  pronunciation  was 
habitual  till  after  Pope,  and  Rogers  tells  us 
that  the  elegant  Gray  said  naise  for  noise 
just  as  our  rustics  still  do.  Our  cornivh 
(which  I  find  also  in  Herrick)  remembers 


32  INTRODUCTION. 

the  French  better  than  cornice  does.  While, 
clinging  more  closely  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  in 
dropping  the  g  from  the  end  of  the  present 
participle,  the  Yankee  now  and  then  pleases 
himself  with  an  experiment  in  French  nasal 
ity  in  words  ending  in  n.  It  is  not.  so  far 
as  my  experience  goes,  very  common,  though 
it  may  formerly  have  been  more  so.  Cap- 
ting,  for  instance,  I  never  heard  save  in  jest, 
the  habitual  form  being  Tcepp'n.  But  at  any 
rate  it  is  no  invention  of  ours.  In  that 
delightful  old  volume,  "  Ane  Compendious 
Buke  of  Godly  and  Spiritual!  Songs,"  in 
which  I  know  not  whether  the  piety  itself 
or  the  simplicity  of  its  expression  be  more 
charming,  I  find  bur  ding,  garding,  and  caus 
ing,  and  in  the  State  Trials  uncerting  used 
by  a  gentleman.  The  n  for  ng  I  confess  pre 
ferring. 

Of  Yankee  preterites  I  find  risse  and  rize 
for  rose  in  Middleton  and  Dryden,  dim  in 
Spenser,  chees  (chose)  in  Sir  John  Man- 
devil,  give  (gave)  in  the  Coventry  Plays, 
shet  (shu£)  in  Golding's  Ovid,1  het  in  Chap 
man  and  in  Weever's  Epitaphs,  thriv  and 
smit  in  Dray  ton,  quit  in  Ben  Jonson  and 
Henry  More,  and  pled  in  the  fastidious  Lan- 

1  Cited  in  Warton's  Obs.  Faery  Q. 


JNTROD  UCTION.  33 

dor.  Rid  for  rode  was  anciently  common. 
So  likewise  was  see  for  saw,  but  I  find  it  in 
no  writer  of  authority,  unless  Chaucer's  seie 
was  so  sounded.  Shew  is  used  by  Hector 
Boece,  Giles  Fletcher,  and  Drummond  of 
Hawthornden.  Similar  strong  preterites, 
like  snew,  thew,  and  even  mew,  are  not  with 
out  example.  I  find  sew  for  sowed  in  Piers 
Ploughman.  Indeed,  the  anomalies  in  Eng 
lish  preterites  are  perplexing.  We  have 
probably  transferred  fleiv  from  flow  (as 
the  preterite  of  which  I  have  heard  it)  to 
fly  because  we  had  another  preterite  in 
fled.  Of  weak  preterites  the  Yankee  retains 
growed,  blowed,  for  which  he  has  good  au 
thority,  and  less  often  knowed.  His  sot  is 
merely  a  broad  sounding  of  sat,  no  more  in 
elegant  than  the  common  got  for  gat,  which 
he  further  degrades  into  gut.  When  he  says 
durst,  he  uses  a  form  as  old  as  Chaucer. 

The  Yankee  has  retained  something  of  the 
long  sound  of  the  a  in  such  words  as  axe, 
wax,  pronouncing  them  exe,  wex  (shortened 
from  aix,  waix).  He  also  says  hev  and  hed 
(have  had)  for  have  and  had.  In  most 
cases  he  follows  an  Anglo-Saxon  usage.  In 
aix  for  axle  he  certainly  does.  I  find  wex 
and  aisches  (ashes}  in  Pecock,  and  exe  in  the 


34  INTRODUCTION. 

Paston  letters.  Chaucer  wrote  hendy.  Dry- 
deu  rhymes  can  with  men,  as  Mr.  Biglow 
would.  Alexander  Gill,  Milton's  teacher,  in 
his  "  Lagonomia  "  cites  hez  for  hath  as  pecu 
liar  to  Lincolnshire.  I  find  hayth  in  Col 
lier's  "  Bibliographical  Account  of  Early 
English  Literature "  under  the  date  1584, 
and  Lord  Cromwell  so  wrote  it.  Sir  Chris 
topher  Wren  wrote  lelcony.  Thaim  for 
them  was  common  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
We  have  an  example  of  the  same  thing 
in  the  double  form  of  the  verb  thrash, 
thresh.  While  the  New-England  er  cannot 
be  brought  to  say  instead  for  instid  (com 
monly  'stid  where  not  the  last  word  in  a  sen 
tence),  he  changes  the  i  into  e  in  red  for  rid, 
tell  for  till,  hender  for  hinder,  rense  for 
rinse.  I  find  red  in  the  old  interlude  of 
"Thersytes,"  tell  in  a  letter  of  Daborne 
to  Henslowe,  and  also,  I  shudder  to  men 
tion  it,  in  a  letter  of  the  great  Duchess 
of  Maiiborough,  Atossa  herself  !  It  occurs 
twice  in  a  single  verse  of  the  Chester  Plays, 
which  I  copy  as  containing  another  Yankee- 
ism  :  — 

"  Tell  the  day  of  dome,  tell  the  heames  blow." 

From  this  word  blow  is  formed  blowth, 
which  I  heard  again  this  summer  after  a 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

long  interval.  Mr.  Wright  l  explains  it  as 
meaning  "  a  blossom."  With  us  a  single  blos 
som  is  a  blow,  while  bloivth  means  the  blos 
soming  in  general.  A  farmer  would  say  that 
there  was  a  good  blowth  on  his  fruit-trees. 
The  word  retreats  farther  inland  and  away 
from  the  railways,  year  by  year.  Wither 
rhymes  hinder  with  slender,  and  Lovelace 
has  renched  for  rinsed.  In  "  Gammer 
Gurton  "  is  sence  for  since  ;  Marlborough's 
Duchess  so  writes  it,  and  Donne  rhymes 
since  with  Amiens  and  patience,  Bishop 
Hall  and  Otway  with  pretence,  Chapman 
with  citizens,  Dryden  with  providence.  In 
deed,  why  should  not  sithence  take  that 
form  ? 

E  sometimes  takes  the  place  of  u,  asjedge 
tredge,  bresh.  I  find  tredge  in  the  interlude 
of  "  Jack  Jugler,"  bresh  in  a  citation  by 
Collier  from  "  London  Cries  "  of  the  middle 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  resche  for 
rush  (fifteenth  century)  in  the  very  valu 
able  "  Volume  of  Vocabularies  "  edited  by 
Mr.  Wright.  Resce  is  one  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  forms  of  the  word  in  Bosworth's  A. 
S.  Dictionary.  The  Yankee  always  shortens 
the  u  in  the  ending  ture,  making  ventur,  na- 

1  Dictionary  of  Obsoltte  ami  Provincial  English. 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

tur,  pictur,  and  so  on.  This  was  common, 
also,  among  the  educated  of  the  last  genera 
tion.  I  am  inclined  to  think  it  may  have 
been  once  universal,  and  I  certainly  think  it 
more  elegant  than  the  vile  vencher,  naycher, 
pickcher,  that  have  taken  its  place,  sounding 
like  the  invention  of  a  lexicographer  with 
his  mouth  full  of  hot  pudding.  Nash  in  his 
"  Pierce  Penniless  "  has  ventur,  and  so  spells 
it,  and  I  meet  it  also  in  Spenser,  Dray  ton, 
Ben  Jonson,  Herrick,  and  Prior.  Spenser 
has  tort'rest,  which  can  only  be  contracted 
from  tortur  and  not  from  torcher.  Quarles 
rhymes  nature  with  creator,  and  Dryden 
with  satire,  which  he  doubtless  pronounced 
according  to  its  older  form  of  satyr. 

I  shall  now  give  some  examples  which  can 
not  so  easily  be  ranked  under  any  special 
head.  Gill  charges  the  Eastern  counties 
with  kiver  for  cover,  and  ta  for  to.  The 
Yankee  pronounces  both  too  and  to  like  ta 
(like  the  tou  in  toucli)  where  they  are  not 
emphatic.  In  that  case,  both  become  tu.  In 
old  spelling,  to  is  the  common  (and  indeed 
correct)  form  of  to,  which  is  only  to  with 
the  sense  of  in  addition.  I  suspect  that  the 
sound  of  our  too  has  caught  something  from 
the  French  tout,  and  it  is  possible  that  the  old 


INTRODUCTION.  37 

too-too  is  not  a  reduplication,  but  a  reminis 
cence  of  the  feminine  form  of  the  same  word 
(toutes~)  and  as  anciently  pronounced,  with 
the  e  not  yet  silenced.  Gill  gives  a  North 
ern  origin  to  geaun  for  gown  and  waund  for 
wound  (vulnus).  Lovelace  has  waund,  but 
there  is  something  too  dreadful  in  suspecting 
Spenser  (who  borealized  in  his  pastorals)  of 
having  ever  been  guilty  of  geaun!  And 
yet  some  delicate  mouths  even  now  are  care 
ful  to  observe  the  Hibernicism  of  ge-ard  for 
guard,  and  ge-url  for  girl.  Sir  Philip  Sid 
ney  (credite  posteri  /)  wrote  furr  tor  far.  I 
would  hardly  have  believed  it  had  I  not  seen 
it  iafac-simile.  As  some  consolation,  I  find 
furder  in  Lord  Bacon  and  Donne,  and 
Wither  rhymes  far  with  cur.  The  Yankee 
who  omits  the  final  d  in  many  words,  as  do 
the  Scotch,  makes  up  for  it  by  adding  one  in 
geound.  The  purist  does  not  feel  the  loss  of 
the  d  sensibly  in  lawn  and  yon,  from  the 
former  of  which  it  has  dropped  again  after 
a  wrongful  adoption  (retained  in  laundry), 
while  it  properly  belongs  to  the  latter.  But 
what  shall  we  make  of  git,  yit,  and  yis  ?  I 
find  yis  and  git  in  Warner's  "  Albion's  Eng 
land,"  yet  rhyming  with  wit,  admit,  and  fit 
in  Donne,  with  wit  in  the  "  Revenger's  Trag- 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

edy,"  Beaumont,  and  Suckling,  with  writ  in 
Dryden,  and  latest  of  all  with  wit  in  Sir 
Hanbury  Williams.  Prior  rhymes  fitting 
and  begetting.  Worse  is  to  come.  Among 
others,  Donne  rhymes  again  with  sin,  and 
Quarles  repeatedly  with  in.  Ben  for  been, 
of  which  our  dear  Whittier  is  so  fond,  has 
the  authority  of  Sackville,  "  Gammer  Gur- 
ton "  (the  work  of  a  bishop),  Chapman, 
Dryden,  and  many  more,  though  bin  seems 
to  have  been  the  common  form.  Whit- 
tier's  accenting  the  first  syllable  of  rom'- 
ance  finds  an  accomplice  in  Drayton  among 
others,  and  though  manifestly  wrong,  is  an 
alogous  with  Rom'ans.  Of  other  Yankee- 
isms,  whether  of  form  or  pronunciation, 
which  I  have  met  with  I  add  a  few  at 
random.  Pecock  writes  sowdiers  (sogers, 
soudoyers),  and  Chapman  and  Gill  sodder. 
This  absorption  of  the  I  is  common  in  vari 
ous  dialects,  especially  in  the  Scottish.  Pe 
cock  writes  also  biyende,  and  the  authors 
of  "  Jack  Jugler  "  and  "  Gammer  Gurton  " 
yender.  The  Yankee  includes  "  yon "  in 
the  same  category,  and  says  "  hither  an' 
yen,"  for  u  to  and  fro."  (Cf.  German  jen- 
seitsJ)  Pecock  and  plenty  more  have  wras- 
tle.  Tindal  has  agynste,  gretter,  shett,  on- 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

done,  debyte,  and  scace.  "  Jack  Jugler  " 
has  soacely  (which  I  have  often  heard, 
though  skurce  is  the  common  form),  and 
Donne  and  Dryden  make  great  rhyme  with 
set.  In  the  inscription  on  Caxton's  tomb  I 
find  ynd  for  end,  which  the  Yankee  more 
often  makes  eend,  still  using  familiarly  the 
old  phrase  "  right  anend "  for  "  continu 
ously."  His  "  stret  (straight)  along "  in 
the  same  sense,  which  I  thought  peculiar  to 
him,  I  find  in  Pecock.  Tindal's  debyte  for 
deputy  is  so  perfectly  Yankee  that  I  could 
almost  fancy  the  brave  martyr  to  have  been 
deacon  of  the  First  Parish  at  Jaalam  Centre. 
"  Jack  Jugler "  further  gives  us  play  sent 
and  sartayne.  Dryden  rhymes  certain  with 
parting,  and  Chapman  and  Ben  Jonson  use 
certain,  as  the  Yankee  always  does,  for  cer 
tainly.  The  "  Coventry  Mysteries  "  have 
occapied,  massage,  nateralle,  materal  (ma 
terial},  and  meracles,  all  excellent  Yankee- 
isms.  In  the  "  Quatre  fils,  Aymon  "  (1504)  1 
is  vertus  for  virtuous.  Thomas  Fuller  called 
volume  vollum,  I  suspect,  for  he  spells  it  vol- 
umne.  However,  per  contra,  Yankees  habit 
ually  say  colume  for  column.  Indeed,  to 

1  Cited  in  Collier.     (I  give  my  authority  where  I  do  not 
quote  from  the  original  book.) 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

prove  that  our  ancestors  brought  their  pro 
nunciation  with  them  from  the  Old  Country, 
and  have  not  wantonly  debased  their  mother 
tongue,  I  need  only  to  cite  the  words  scrip- 
tur,  Israll,  athists,  and  cTierfulness  from 
Governor  Bradford's  "  History."  Brampton 
Gurdon  writes  shet  in  a  letter  to  Winthrop. 
So  the  good  man  wrote  them,  and  so  the 
good  descendants  of  his  fellow-exiles  still 
pronounce  them.  Purtend  {pretend}  has 
crept  like  a  serpent  into  the  "  Paradise  of 
Dainty  Devices  ;  "  purvide,  which  is  not  so 
bad,  is  in  Chaucer.  These,  of  course,  are 
universal  vulgarisms,  and  not  peculiar  to  the 
Yankee.  Butler  has  a  Yankee  phrase  and 
pronunciation  too  in  "  To  which  these  carr'- 
ings-on  did  tend."  Langham  or  Laneham, 
who  wrote  an  account  of  the  festivities  at 
Kenilworth  in  honor  of  Queen  Bess,  and 
who  evidently  tried  to  spell  phonetically, 
makes  sorrows  into  sororz.  Herrick  writes 
hollow  for  halloo,  and  perhaps  pronounced  it 
(horresco  suggerins  /)  holla,  as  Yankees  do. 
Why  not,  when  it  comes  from  hold  ?  I  find 
ffelaschyppe  (fellowship)  in  the  Coventry 
Plays.  Spenser  and  his  queen  neither  of 
them  scrupled  to  write  afore,  and  the  former 
feels  no  inelegance  even  in  chaw.  ''Fore 


INTRODUCTION.  41 

was  common  till  after  Herrick.  Af eared  was 
once  universal.  Warner  has  ery  for  ever  a  ; 
nay,  he  lias  also  illy,  with  which  we  were  once 
ignorantly  reproached  by  persons  more  famil 
iar  with  Murray's  grammar  than  with  Eng 
lish  literature.  And  why  not  illy  ?  Mr.  Bai't- 
lett  says  it  is  "  a  word  used  by  writers  of  an 
inferior  class,  who  do  not  seem  to  perceive 
that  ill  is  itself  an  adverb,  without  the  ter 
mination  ly"  and  quotes  Dr.  Messer,  Pres 
ident  of  Brown  University,  as  asking  tri 
umphantly,  "  Why  don't  you  say  welly  ?  "  I 
should  like  to  have  had  Dr.  Messer  answer 
his  own  question.  It  would  be  truer  to  say 
that  it  was  used  by  people  who  still  remem 
bered  that  ill  was  an  adjective,  the  shortened 
form  of  evil,  out  of  which  Shakespeare  ven 
tured  to  make  evilly.  The  objection  to  illy 
is  not  an  etymological  one,  but  simply  that 
it  is  contrary  to  good  usage,  a  very  sufficient 
reason.  Ill  as  an  adverb  was  at  first  a  vul 
garism,  precisely  like  the  rustic's  when  he 
says,  "  I  was  treated  bad."  May  not  the 
reason  of  this  exceptional  form  be  looked 
for  in  that  tendency  to  dodge  what  is  hard 
to  pronounce,  to  which  I  have  already  al 
luded  ?  If  the  letters  were  distinctly  uttered 
as  they  should  be,  it  would  take  too  much 


42  INTRODUCTION. 

time  to  say  ill-ly,  well-ly,  and  it  is  to  be  ob 
served  that  we  have  avoided  smally  and  tally 
in  the  same  way,  though  we  add  ish  to  them 
without  hesitation  in  smallish  and  tallish. 
We  have,  to  be  sure,  dully  and  fully,  but 
for  the  one  we  prefer  stupidly,  and  the  other 
(though  this  may  have  come  from  eliding 
the  y  before  as)  is  giving  away  to  full.  The 
uneducated,  whose  utterance  is  slower,  still 
make  adverbs  when  they  will  by  adding  like 
to  all  manner  of  adjectives.  We  have  had  big 
charged  upon  us,  because  we  use  it  where  an 
Englishman  would  now  use  great.  I  fully 
admit  that  it  were  better  to  distinguish  be 
tween  them,  allowing  to  big  a  certain  con 
temptuous  quality,  but  as  for  authority,  I 
want  none  better  than  that  of  Jeremy  Tay 
lor,  who,  in  his  noble  sermon  "  On  the  Re 
turn  of  Prayer,"  speaks  of  "Jesus,  whose 
spirit  was  meek  and  gentle  up  to  the  great 
ness  of  the  biggest  example."  As  for  our 
double  negative,  I  shall  waste  no  time  in 
quoting  instances  of  it,  because  it  was  once 
as  universal  in  English  as  it  still  is  in  the 
neo-Latin  languages,  where  it  does  not  strike 
us  as  vulgar.  I  am  not  sure  that  the  loss  of 
it  is  not  to  be  regretted.  But  surely  I  shall 
admit  the  vulgarity  of  slurring  or  altogether 


INTRODUCTION.  43 

eliding  certain  terminal  consonants  ?  I  ad 
mit  that  a  clear  and  sharp-cut  enunciation 
is  one  of  the  crowning  charms  and  elegancies 
of  speech.  Words  so  uttered  are  like  coins 
fresh  from  the  mint,  compared  with  the 
worn  and  dingy  drudges  of  long  service,  — 
I  do  not  mean  American  coins,  for  those 
look  less  badly,  the  more  they  lose  of  their 
original  ugliness.  No  one  is  more  painfully 
conscious  than  I  of  the  contrast  between  the 
rifle-crack  of  an  Englishman's  yes  and  wo, 
and  the  wet-fuse  drawl  of  the  same  monosyl 
lables  in  the  mouths  of  my  countrymen. 
But  I  do  not  find  the  dropping  of  final  con 
sonants  disagreeable  in  Allan  Ramsay  or 
Burns,  nor  do  I  believe  that  our  literary  an 
cestors  were  sensible  of  that  inelegance  in 
the  fusing  them  together  of  which  we  are 
conscious.  How  many  educated  men  pro 
nounce  the  t  in  chestnut?  how  many  say 
pentise  for  penthouse,  as  they  should?  When 
a  Yankee  skipper  says  that  he  is  "  boun'  for 
Gloster  "  (not  Gloucester,  with  the  leave  of 
the  Universal  Schoolmaster),  he  but  speaks 
like  Chaucer  or  an  old  ballad-singer,  though 
they  would  have  pronounced  it  boon.  This 
is  one  of  the  cases  where  the  d  is  surrepti 
tious,  and  has  been  added  in  compliment  to 


44  INTRODUCTION. 

the  verb  bind,  with  which  it  has  nothing  to 
do.  If  we  consider  the  root  of  the  word, 
(though  of  course  I  grant  that  every  race 
has  a  right  to  do  what  it  will  with  what  is  so 
peculiarly  its  own  as  its  speech,)  the  d  has 
no  more  right  there  than  at  the  end  of  gone, 
where  it  is  often  put  by  children,  who  are 
our  best  guides  to  the  sources  of  linguistic 
corruption,  and  the  best  teachers  of  its  pro 
cesses.  Cromwell,  minister  of  Henry  VIII., 
writes  worle  for  world.  Chapman  has  wan 
for  wand,  and  lawn  has  rightfully  displaced 
laund,  though  with  no  thought,  I  suspect,  of 
etymology.  Rogers  tells  us  that  Lady  Ba- 
thurst  sent  him  some  letters  written  to  Wil 
liam  III.  by  Queen  Mary,  in  which  she  ad 
dresses  him  as  " Dear  Husban"  The  old 
form  expouri,  which  our  farmers  use,  is  more 
correct  than  the  form  with  a  barbarous  d 
tacked  on  which  has  taken  its  place.  Of  the 
kind  opposite  to  this,  like  our  gownd  for 
gown,  and  the  London  cockney's  wind  for 
wine,  I  find  drownd  for  drown  in  the  "  Mis 
fortunes  of  Arthur "  (1584),  and  in  Swift. 
And,  by  the  way,  whence  came  the  long 
sound  of  wind  which  our  poets  still  retain, 
and  which  survives  in  "  winding"  a  horn,  a 
totally  different  word  from  "  winding"  a  kite- 


INTRODUCTION.  45 

string?  We  say  behind  and  hinder  (compar 
ative),  and  yet  to  hinder.  SLakespeare  pro 
nounced  kind  kind,  or  what  becomes  of  his 
play  on  that  word  and  kin  in  Hamlet  ? 
Nay,  did  he  not  even  (shall  I  dare  to  hint 
it?)  drop  the  final  d  as  the  Yankee  still 
does  ?  John  Lilly  plays  in  the  same  way  on 
kindred  and  kindness.  But  to  come  to  some 
other  ancient  instances.  Warner  rhymes 
bounds  with  crowns,  grounds  with  towns, 
text  with  sex,  worst  with  crust,  interrupts 
with  cups  ;  Drayton,  defects  with  sex  ;  Chap 
man,  amends  with  cleanse ;  Webster,  de 
fects  with  checks  ;  Ben  Jonson,  minds  with 
combines ;  Marston,  trust  and  obsequious, 
clothes  and  shows  ;  Dryden  gives  the  same 
sound  to  clothes,  and  has  also  minds  with 
designs.  Of  course,  I  do  not  affirm  that 
their  ears  may  not  have  told  them  that  these 
were  imperfect  rhymes  (though  I  am  by  no 
means  sure  even  of  that),  but  they  surely 
would  never  have  tolerated  any  such,  had 
they  suspected  the  least  vulgarity  in  them. 
Prior  has  the  rhyme  first  and  trust,  but  puts 
it  into  the  mouth  of  a  landlady.  Swift  has 
stunted  and  burnt  it,  an  intentionally  imper 
fect  rhyme,  no  doubt,  but  which  I  cite  as 
giving  precisely  the  Yankee  pronunciation 


46  INTRODUCTION. 

of  burned.  Donne  couples  in  unhallowed 
wedlock  after  and  matter,  thus  seeming  to 
give  to  both  the  true  Yankee  sound,  and  it  is 
not  uncommon  to  find  after  and  daughter. 
Worse  than  all,  in  one  of  Dodsley's  Old 
Plays  we  have  onions  rhyming  with  minions, 
—  I  have  tears  in  my  eyes  while  I  record  it. 
And  yet  what  is  viler  than  the  universal 
Misses  (J/rs.)  for  Mistress  ?  This  was 
once  a  vulgarism,  and  in  "  The  Miseries  of 
Inforced  Marriage  "  the  rhyme  (printed  as 
prose  in  Dodsley's  Old  Plays  by  Collier), 

"  To  make  my  young  mistress, 
Delighting  in  kisses," 

is  put  in  the  mouth  of  the  clown.  Our  peo 
ple  say  Injun  for  Indian.  The  tendency  to 
make  this  change  where  i  follows  d  is  com 
mon.  The  Italian  giorno  and  French  jour 
from  diurnus  are  familiar  examples.  And 
yet  Injun  is  one  of  those  depravations  which 
the  taste  challenges  peremptorily,  though  it 
have  the  authority  of  Charles  Cotton,  who 
rhymes  "  Indies  "  with  "  cringes,"  and  four 
English  lexicographers,  beginning  with  Dr. 
Sheridan,  bid  us  say  invidgeous.  Yet  after 
all  it  is  no  worse  than  the  debasement  which 
all  our  terminations  in  tion  and  tience  have 
undergone,  which  yet  we  hear  with  resigna- 


INTRODUCTION.  47 

shun  and  payshunce,  though  it  might  have 
aroused  both  impat-i-ence  and  indigna-ti-on 
in  Shakespeare's  time.  When  George  Her 
bert  tells  us  that  if  the  sermon  be  dull, 

"  God  takes  a  text  and  preacheth  pati-ence," 

the  prolongation  of  the  word  seems  to  con 
vey  some  hint  at  the  longanimity  of  the  vir 
tue.  Consider  what  a  poor  curtal  we  have 
made  of  Ocean.  There  was  something  of  his 
heave  and  expanse  in  o-ce-an,  and  Fletcher 
knew  how  to  use  it  when  he  wrote  so  fine  a 
verse  as  the  second  of  these,  the  best  deep- 
sea  verse  I  know,  — 

"In  desperate  storms  stem  with  a  little  rudder 
The  tumbling  ruins  of  the  ocean." 

Oceanus  was  not  then  wholly  shorn  of  his 
divine  proportions,  and  our  modern  oshun 
sounds  like  the  gush  of  small-beer  in  com 
parison.  Some  other  contractions  of  ours 
have  a  vulgar  air  about  them.  More,  'n  for 
more  than,  as  one  of  the  worst,  may  stand 
for  a  type  of  such.  Yet  our  old  dramatists 
are  full  of  such  obscurations  (elisions  they 
can  hardly  be  called)  of  the  th,  making 
whe'r  of  whether,  bro'r  of  brother,  smo'r  of 
smother,  mo'r  of  mother,  and  so  on.  Indeed, 
it  is  this  that  explains  the  word  rare  (which 


48  INTRODUCTION. 

has  Dry  den's  support),  and  which  we  say  of 
meat  where  an  Englishman  would  use  under 
done.  I  do  not  believe,  with  the  dictiona 
ries,  that  it  had  ever  anything  to  do  with  the 
Icelandic  hrdr  (raw?),  as  it  plainly  has  not 
in  rareripe,  which  means  earlier  ripe.  And 
I  do  not  believe  it  for  this  reason,  that 
the  earlier  form  of  the  word  with  us  was, 
and  the  commoner  now  in  the  inland  parts 
still  is,  so  far  as  I  can  discover,  raredone. 
I  find  rather  as  a  monosyllable  in  Donne, 
and  still  better  as  giving  the  sound,  rhym 
ing  with  fair  in  Warner.  The  contraction 
more  ''n  I  find  in  the  old  play  "  Fuimus  Troes," 
in  a  verse  where  the  measure  is  so  strongly 
accented  as  to  leave  it  beyond  doubt,  — 

"A  golden  crown  whose  heirs 
More  than  half  the  world  subdue." 

It  may  be,  however,  that  the  contraction  is 
in  "th'  orld."  Is  our  gin  for  given  more 
violent  than  marl  for  marvel,  which  was 
once  common,  and  which  I  find  as  late  as 
Herrick  ?  Nay,  Herrick  has  gin  (spelling  it 
g'en),  too,  as  do  the  Scotch,  who  agree  with 
us  likewise  in  preferring  chimly  to  chimney. 
I  will  now  leave  pronunciation  and  turn 
to  words  or  phrases  which  have  been  sup 
posed  peculiar  to  us,  only  pausing  to  pick  up 


INTRODUCTION.  49 

a  single  dropped  stitch  in  the  pronunciation 
of  the'  word  sup'reme,  which  I  had  thought 
native  till  I  found  it  in  the  well-languaged 
Daniel.  I  will  begin  with  a  word  of  which 
I  have  never  met  with  any  example  in  print. 
We  express  the  first  stage  of  withering  in  a 
green  plant  suddenly  cut  down  by  the  verb 
to  wilt.  It  is,  of  course,  own  cousin  of  the 
German  welken,  but  I  have  never  come  upon 
it  in  print,  and  my  own  books  of  reference 
give  me  faint  help.  Graff  gives  welhen,  mar- 
cescere,  and  refers  to  weih  (weak),  and  con- 
jecturally  to  A.  S.  hvelan.  The  A.  S.  weal- 
wian  (to  wither*)  is  nearer,  but  not  so  near 
as  two  words  in  the  Icelandic,  which  perhaps 
put  us  on  the  track  of  its  ancestry,  velgi 
(teyefacere)  and  velki,  with  the  derivative 
meaning  contaminare.  Wilt,  at  any  rate,  is 
a  good  word,  filling,  as  it  does,  a  sensible 
gap  between  drooping  and  withering,  and 
the  imaginative  phrase  "he  wilted  right 
down,"  like  "  he  caved  right  in,"  is  a  true 
Americanism.  Wilt  occurs  in  English  pro 
vincial  glossaries,  but  is  explained  by  wither, 
which  with  us  it  does  not  mean.  We  have  a 
few  words,  such  as  cache,  cohog,  carry  (port 
age),  shoot  (chute),  timber  (forest),  bush 
whack  (to  pull  a  boat  along  by  the  bushes 


50  INT  ROD  UC  TJ  ON. 

on  the  edge  of  a  stream),  buckeye  (a  pictur 
esque  word  for  the  horse-chestnut),  but  how 
many  can  we  be  said  to  have  fairly  brought 
into  the  language,  as  Alexander  Gill,  who 
first  mentions  Americanisms,  meant  it  when 
he  said,  "  Sed  et  ab  Americanis  nonnulla 
mutuamur  ut  MAIZ  et  CANOA  "  ?  Very  few, 
I  suspect,  and  those  mostly  by  borrowing 
from  the  French,  German,  Spanish,  or  Indian. 
"  The  Dipper  "  for  the  "  Great  Bear  "  strikes 
me  as  having  a  native  air.  Bogus,  in  the 
sense  of  worthless,  is  undoubtedly  ours,  but 
is,  I  more  than  suspect,  a  corruption  of  the 
French  bagasse  (from  low  Latin  bagasea), 
which  travelled  up  the  Mississippi  from  New 
Orleans,  where  it  was  used  for  the  refuse  of 
the  sugar-cane.  It  is  true  we  have  modified 
the  meaning  of  some  words.  We  use  freshet 
in  the  sense  of  flood,  for  which  I  have  not 
chanced  upon  any  authority.  Our  New  Eng 
land  cross  between  Ancient  Pistol  and  Du- 
gald  Dalgetty,  Captain  Underbill,  uses  the 
word  (1638)  to  mean  a  current,  and  I  do 
not  recollect  it  elsewhere  in  that  sense.  1 
therefore  leave  it  with  a  ?  for  future  ex 
plorers.  Crick  for  creek  I  find  in  Captain 
John  Smith  and  in  the  dedication  of  Fuller's 
"Holy  "Warre,"  and  run,  meaning  a  small 


INTR  OD  UCTION.  51 

stream,  in  Weymouth's  "  Voyage  "  (1605). 
Humans  for  men,  which  Mr.  Bartlett  in 
cludes  in  his  "•  Dictionary  of  Americanisms," 
is  Chapman's  habitual  phrase  in  his  transla 
tion  of  Homer.  I  find  it  also  in  the  old 
play  of  "The  Hog  hath  lost  his  Pearl." 
Uoas  for  andirons  is  still  current  in  New 
England,  and  in  Walter  de  Biblesworth  I 
find  chiens  glossed  in  the  margin  by  and 
irons.  Gunning  for  shooting  is  in  Drayton. 
We  once  got  credit  for  the  poetical  word 
fall  for  autumn,  but  Mr.  Bartlett  and  the 
last  edition  of  Webster's  Dictionary  refer 
us  to  Dry  den.  It  is  even  older,  for  I  find  it 
in  Drayton,  and  Bishop  Hall  has  autumn 
fall.  Middleton  plays  upon  the  word : 
"  May'st  thou  have  a  reasonable  good  spring, 
for  thou  art  like  to  have  many  dangerous 
foul  falls"  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury 
(more  properly  perhaps  than  even  Sidney, 
the  last  preux  chevalier^)  has  "  the  Emperor's 
folks  "  just  as  a  Yankee  would  say  it.  Loan 
for  lend,  with  which  we  have  hitherto  been 
blackened,  I  must  retort  upon  the  mother 
island,  for  it  appears  so  long  ago  as  in 
"  Albion's  England."  Fleshy,  in  the  sense 
of  stout,  may  claim  Ben  Jonson's  warrant. 
Chore  is  also  Jonson's  word,  and  I  am  in- 


52  INTRODUCTION. 

clined  to  prefer  it  to  chare  and  char,  because 
I  think  that  I  see  a  more  natural  origin  for 
it  in  the  French  jour,  whence  it  might  come 
to  mean  a  day's  work,  and  thence  a  job, 
than  anj^where  else.  At  oust  for  at  once  I 
thought  a  corruption  of  our  own,  till  I  found 
it  in  the  Chester  Plays.  I  am  now  inclined 
to  suspect  it  no  corruption  at  all,  but  only 
an  erratic  and  obsolete  superlative  at  onest. 
To  progress'  was  flung  in  our  teeth  till  Mr. 
Pickering  retorted  with  Shakespeare's  "  doth 
pro'gress  down  thy  cheeks."  I  confess  that 
I  was  never  satisfied  with  this  answer,  be 
cause  the  accent  was  different,  and  because 
the  word  might  here  be  reckoned  a  substan 
tive  quite  as  well  as  a  verb.  Mr.  Bartlett 
(in  his  Dictionary  above  cited)  adds  a  sur 
rebutter  in  a  verse  from  Ford's  "  Broken 
Heart/'  Here  the  word  is  clearly  a  verb, 
but  with  the  accent  unhappily  still  on  the 
first  syllable.  Mr.  Bartlett  says  that  he 
"  cannot  say  whether  the  word  was  used  in 
Bacon's  time  or  not."  It  certainly  was,  and 
with  the  accent  we  give  to  it.  Ben  Jonson, 
in  the  "  Alchemist,"  has  this  verse,  — 

"  Progress'  so  from  extreme  unto  extreme." 

Surely  we  may  now  sleep  in  peace,  and  our 
English  cousins  will  forgive  us,  since  we 


INTRODUCTION.  53 

have  cleared  ourselves  from  any  suspicion  of 
originality  in  the  matter!  Poor  for  lean, 
thirds  for  dower,  and  dry  for  thirsty  I  find 
in  Middleton's  plays.  Dry  is  also  in  Skel- 
ton  and  in  the  "  World  "  (1754).  In  a  note 
on  Middleton,  Mr.  Dyce  thinks  it  needful 
to  explain  the  phrase  I  can't  tell  (universal 
in  America)  by  the  gloss  /  could  not  say. 
Middleton  also  uses  snecked,  which  I  had 
believed  an  Americanism  till  I  saw  it  there. 
It  is,  of  course,  only  another  form  of  snatch^ 
analogous  to  theek  and  thatch  (cf .  the  proper 
names  Dekker  and  Thacher),  break  (braclc) 
and  breach,  make  (still  common  with  us) 
and  match.  ' Long  on  for  occasioned  by 
("who  is  this  'long  on?")  occurs  likewise 
in  Middleton.  'Cause  why  is  in  Chaucer. 
^Raising  (an  English  version  of  the  French 
leaven)  for  yeast  is  employed  by  Gayton 
in  his  "  Festivous  Notes  on  Don  Quixote." 
I  have  never  seen  an  instance  of  our  New 
England  word  emptins  in  the  same  sense, 
nor  can  I  divine  its  original.  Gayton  has 
limekill ;  also  shuts  for  shutters,  and  the 
latter  is  used  by  Mrs.  Hutchinson  in  her 
"  Life  of  Colonel  Hutchinson."  Bishop  Hall, 
and  Purchas  in  his  "  Pilgrims,"  have  chist 
for  chest,  and  it  is  certainly  nearer  cista  as 


54  INTRODUCTION. 

well  as  to  the  form  in  the  Teutonic  lan 
guages,  whence  we  probably  got  it.  We 
retain  the  old  sound  in  cist,  but  chest  is  as 
old  as  Chaucer.  Lovelace  says  wropt  for 
wrapt.  "  Musicianer  "  I  had  always  associ 
ated  with  the  militia-musters  of  my  boyhood, 
and  too  hastily  concluded  it  an  abomination 
of  our  own,  but  Mr.  Wright  calls  it  a  Nor 
folk  word,  and  I  find  it  to  be  as  old  as  1642 
by  an  extract  in  Collier.  "  Not  worth  the 
time  of  day  "  had  passed  with  me  for  native 
till  I  saw  it  in  Shakespeare's  "  Pericles." 
For  slide  (which  is  only  a  shorter  sound 
of  sleek,  like  crick  and  the  now  universal 
britches  for  breeches^)  I  will  only  call  Chap 
man  and  Jonson.  "  That 's  a  sure  card  ! " 
and  "  That 's  a  stinger  ! "  both  sound  like 
modern  slang,  but  you  will  find  the  one  in 
the  old  interlude  of  "Thersytes"  (1537), 
and  the  other  in  Middleton.  "  Right  here," 
a  favorite  phrase  with  our  orators  and  with  a 
certain  class  of  our  editors,  turns  up  passim 
in  the  Chester  and  Coventry  plays.  Mr. 
Dickens  found  something  very  ludicrous  in 
what  he  considered  our  neologism  right 
away.  But  I  find  a  phrase  very  like  it,  and 
which  I  half  suspect  to  be  a  misprint  for  it 
in  "  Gammer  Gurton  "  :  — 

"  Lyght  it  and  bring  it  tite  away." 


INTRODUCTION.  55 

After  all,  what  is  it  but  another  form  of 
straightway  ?  Cussedness,  meaning  wicked 
ness,  malignity,  and  cuss,  a  sneaking,  ill- 
natured  fellow,  in  such  phrases  as  "  He  done 
it  out  o'  pure  cussedness,"  and  "  He  is  a 
nateral  cuss,"  have  been  commonly  thought 
Yankeeisms.  To  vent  certain  contemptu 
ously-indignant  moods  they  are  admirable 
in  their  rough-and-ready  way.  But  neither 
is  our  own.  Cursydnesse,  in  the  same  sense 
of  malignant  wickedness,  occurs  in  the  Cov 
entry  Plays,  and  cuss  may  perhaps  claim  to 
have  come  in  with  the  Conqueror.  At  least 
the  term  is  also  French.  Saint  Simon  uses 
it  and  confesses  its  usefulness.  Speaking  of 
the  Abbd  Dubois  he  says,  "  Qui  dtoit  en  plein 
ce  qu'un  mauvais  francois  appelle  un  sacre, 
mais  qui  ne  se  pent  guere  exprimer  autre- 
ment."  "Not  worth  a  cuss,"  though  sup 
ported  by  "  not  worth  a  damn,"  may  be  a 
mere  corruption,  since  "  not  worth  a  cress  " 
is  in  "  Piers  Ploughman."  "  I  don't  see  it  " 
was  the  popular  slang  a  year  or  two  ago, 
and  seemed  to  spring  from  the  soil ;  but 
no,  it  is  in  Gibber's  "  Careless  Husband." 
"Green  sauce'1''  for  vegetables  I  meet  in 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Gayton  and  else 
where.  Our  rustic  pronunciation  sahce  (for 


56  INTRODUCTION. 

either  the  diphthong  au  was  anciently  pro 
nounced  ah,  or  else  we  have  followed  abund 
ant  analogy  in  changing  it  to  the  latter  sound, 
as  we  have  in  chance,  dance,  and  so  many 
more)  may  be  the  older  one,  and  at  least 
gives  some  hint  at  its  ancestor  salsa.  Warn, 
in  the  sense  of  notify,  is,  I  believe,  now 
peculiar  to  us,  but  Pecock  so  employs  it. 
To  cotton  to  is,  I  rather  think,  an  American 
ism.  The  nearest  approach  to  it  I  have 
found  is  cotton  together,  in  Congreve's  "  Love 
for  Love."  To  cotton  or  cotten,  in  another 
sense,  is  old  and  common.  Our  word  means 
to  cling,  and  its  origin,  possibly,  is  to  be 
sought  in  another  direction,  perhaps  in  A.  S. 
mead,  which  means  mud,  clay  (both  pro 
verbially  clinging),  or  better  yet,  in  the 
Icelandic  qvoda  (otherwise  Jc6d~),  meaning 
resin  and  glue,  which  are  KO.T  e^o^v  sticky 
substances.  To  spit  cotton  is,  I  think, 
American,  and  also,  perhaps,  to  flax  for  to 
beat.  To  the  halves  still  survives  among  us, 
though  apparently  obsolete  in  England.  It 
means  either  to  let  or  to  hire  a  piece  of  land, 
receiving  half  the  profit  in  money  or  in  kind 
(partibus  locare).  I  mention  it  because 
in  a  note  by  some  English  editor,  to  which 
I  have  lost  my  reference,  I  have  seen  it 


INTRODUCTION.  57 

wrongly  explained.  The  editors  of  Nares 
cite  Burton.  To  put,  in  the  sense  of  to  go, 
as  Put  !  for  Begone  I  would  seem  our  own, 
and  yet  it  is  strictly  analogous  to  the  French 
se  mettre  d  la  voie,  and  the  Italian  mettersi 
in  via.  Indeed,  Dante  has  a  verse, 

"  Io  sarei  [for  mi  sarei]  gid  messo per  lo  sentiero," 

which,  but  for  the  indignity,  might  be  trans 
lated, 

"  I  should,  ere  this,  have  put  along  the  way." 

I  deprecate  in  advance  any  share  in  Gen 
eral  Banks's  notions  of  international  law,  but 
we  may  all  take  a  just  pride  in  his  exuber 
ant  eloquence  as  something  distinctly  Amer 
ican.  When  he  spoke  a  few  years  ago  of 
"  letting  the  Union  slide,"  even  those  who, 
for  political  purposes,  reproached  him  with 
the  sentiment,  admired  the  indigenous  virtue 
of  his  phrase.  Yet  I  find  "  let  the  world 
slide  "  in  Heywood's  "  Edward  IV."  ;  and 
in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  "  Wit  without 
Money"  Valentine  says, 

"Will  you  go  drink, 
And  let  the  world  slide  ?" 

In  the  one  case  it  is  put  into  the  mouth  of 
a  clown,  in  the  other,  of  a  gentleman,  and 
was  evidently  proverbial.  It  has  even  higher 
sanction,  for  Chaucer  writes, 


58  INTRODUCTION. 

"  Well  nigh  all  other  cures  let  he  slide." 

Mr.  Bartlett  gives  "  above  one's  bend  "  as  an 
Americanism ;  but  compare  Hamlet's  "  to 
the  top  of  my  bent."  In  his  tracks  for  im 
mediately  has  acquired  an  American  accent, 
and  passes  where  he  can  for  a  native,  but  is 
an  importation  nevertheless ;  for  what  is  he 
but  the  Latin  e  vestigio,  or  at  best  the  Nor 
man  French  eneslespas,  both  which  have  the 
same  meaning?  Hotfoot  (provincial  also 
in  England)  I  find  in  the  old  romance  of 

"  Tristan," 

"Si s'en  parti  CHAUT  PAS." 

Like  for  as  is  never  used  in  New  England, 
but  is  universal  in  the  South  and  West.  It 
has  on  its  side  the  authority  of  two  kings 
(ego  sum  rex  Romanomm  et  supra  gram- 
maticcnn),  Henry  VIII.  and  Charles  I.  This 
were  ample,  without  throwing  into  the  scale 
the  scholar  and  poet  Daniel.  Them  was 
used  as  a  nominative  by  the  Majesty  of  Ed 
ward  VI.,  by  Sir  P.  Hoby,  and  by  Lord 
Paget  (in  Froude's  "  History ").  I  have 
never  seen  any  passage  adduced  where  guess 
was  used  as  the  Yankee  uses  it.  The  word 
was  familiar  in  the  mouths  of  our  ancestors, 
but  with  a  different  shade  of  meaning  from 
that  we  have  given  it,  which  is  something 


IN  TR  OD  UCTION.  59 

like  rather  think,  though  the  Yankee  implies 
a  confident  certainty  by  it  when  he  says,  "  I 
guess  1  du !  "  There  are  two  examples  in 
Otway,  one  of  which  ("  So  in  the  struggle, 
I  guess  the  note  was  lost ")  perhaps  might 
serve  our  purpose,  and  Coleridge's 

"I  guess  t'was  fearful  there  to  see" 

certainly  comes  very  near.  But  I  have  a 
higher  authority  than  either  in  Selden,  who, 
in  one  of  his  notes  to  the  "  Polyolbion," 
writes,  "  The  first  inventor  of  them  (I  guess 
you  dislike  not  the  addition)  was  one  Ber- 
thold  Swartz."  Here  he  must  mean  by  it, 
"  I  take  it  for  granted."  Another  peculiar 
ity  almost  as  prominent  is  the  beginning  sen 
tences,  especially  in  answer  to  questions,  with 
"well."  Put  before  such  a  phrase  as  "How 
d'e  do?  "  it  is  commonly  short,  and  has  the 
sound  of  wul,  but  in  reply  it  is  deliberative, 
and  the  various  shades  of  meaning  which  can 
be  conveyed  by  difference  of  intonation,  and 
by  prolonging  or  abbreviating,  I  should  vain 
ly  attempt  to  describe.  I  have  heard  ooa- 
ahl,  wahl,  ahl,  wdl,  and  something  nearly 
approaching  the  sound  of  the  le  in  able. 
Sometimes  before  "I"  it  dwindles  to  a  mere 
Z,  as  "'1  /dunno."  A  friend  of  mine  (why 
should  I  not  please  myself,  though  I  dis- 


60  INTRODUCTION. 

please  him,  by  brightening  my  page  with  the 
initials  of  the  most  exquisite  of  humorists, 
J.  H.  ?)  told  me  that  he  once  heard  five 
"  wells,"  like  pioneers,  precede  the  answer 
to  the  inquiry  about  the  price  of  land.  The 
first  was  ordinary  wul,  in  deference  to  cus 
tom  ;  the  second,  the  long,  perpending  ooahl, 
with  a  falling  inflection  of  the  voice ;  the 
third,  the  same,  but  with  the  voice  rising,  as 
if  in  despair  of  a  conclusion,  into  a  plaintive 
ly  nasal  whine ;  the  fourth,  wulh,  ending  in 
the  aspirate  of  a  sigh ;  and  then,  fifth,  came 
a  short,  sharp,  wal,  showing  that  a  conclu 
sion  had  been  reached.  I  have  used  this  lat 
ter  form  in  the  "  Biglow  Papers,"  because, 
if  enough  nasality  be  added,  it  represents 
most  nearly  the  average  sound  of  what  I  may 
call  the  interjection. 

A  locution  prevails  in  the  Southern  and 
Middle  States  which  is  so  curious  that,  though 
never  heard  in  New  England,  I  will  give  a 
few  lines  to  its  discussion,  the  more  readily 
because  it  is  extinct  elsewhere.  I  mean  the 
use  of  allow  in  the  sense  of  affirm^  as  "  I  al 
low  that 's  a  good  horse."  I  find  the  word 
so  used  in  1558  by  Anthony  Jenkinson  in 
Hakluyt :  "  Corne  they  sowe  not,  neither  doe 
eate  any  bread,  mocking  the  Christians  for 


INTRODUCTION.  61 

the  same,  and  disabling  our  strengthe,  say 
ing  we  live  by  eating  the  top  of  a  weede, 
and  drinke  a  drinke  made  of  the  same,  al 
lowing  theyr  great  devouring  of  flesh  and 
drinking  of  milke  to  be  the  increase  of  theyr 
strength.  That  is,  they  undervalued  our 
strength,  and  affirmed  their  own  to  be  the 
result  of  a  certain  diet.  In  another  passage 
of  the  same  narrative  the  word  has  its  more 
common  meaning  of  approving  or  praising : 
"  The  said  king,  much  allowing  this  declara 
tion,  said."  Ducange  quotes  Bracton  sub 
voce  ADLOCARE  for  the  meaning  "  to  ad 
mit  as  proved,"  and  the  transition  from  this 
to  "  affirm  "  is  by  no  means  violent.  At  the 
same  time,  when  we  consider  some  of  the 
meanings  of  allow  in  old  English,  and  of  al- 
louer  in  old  French,  and  also  remember  that 
the  verbs  prize  and  praise  are  from  one  root, 
I  think  we  must;  admit  allaudare  to  a  share 
in  the  paternity  of  alloio.  The  sentence  from 
Hakluyt  would  read  equally  well,  "  contemn 
ing  our  strengthe,  .  .  .  and  praising  (or 
valuing)  their  great  eating  of  flesh  as  the 
cause  of  their  increase  in  strength."  After 
all,  if  we  confine  ourselves  to  allocare,  it  may 
turn  out  that  the  word  was  somewhere  and 
somewhen  used  for  to  bet,  analogously  to  put 


62  INTRODUCTION. 

up,  put  down,  post  (cf.  Spanish  apostar*), 
and  the  like.  I  hear  boys  in  the  street  con 
tinually  saying,  "  I  bet  that  's  a  good  horse," 
or  what  not,  meaning  by  no  means  to  risk 
anything  beyond  their  opinion  in  the  matter. 
The  word  improve,  in  the  sense  of  "  to  oc 
cupy,  make  use  of,  employ,"  as  Dr.  Picker 
ing  defines  it,  he  long  ago  proved  to  be  no 
neologism.  He  would  have  done  better,  I 
think,  had  he  substituted  profit  by  for  em 
ploy.  He  cites  Dr.  Franklin  as  saying  that 
the  word  had  never,  so  far  as  he  knew,  been 
used  in  New  England  before  he  left  it  in 
1723,  except  in  Dr.  Mather's  "  Remarkable 
Providences,"  which  he  oddly  calls  a  "  very 
old  book."  Franklin,  as  Dr.  Pickering  goes 
on  to  show,  was  mistaken.  Mr.  Bartlett  in 
his  "  Dictionary  "  merely  abridges  Pickering. 
Both  of  them  should  have  confined  the  appli 
cation  of  the  word  to  material  things,  its  ex 
tension  to  which  is  all  that  is  peculiar  in  the 
supposed  American  use  of  it.  For  surely 
"  Complete  Letter- Writers  "  have  been  "im 
proving  this  opportunity"  time  out  of  mind. 
I  will  illustrate  the  word  a  little  further, 
because  Pickering  cites  no  English  authori 
ties.  Skelton  has  a  passage  in  his  "Phyl- 
lyp  Sparowe,"  which  I  quote  the  rather  as 


INTRO  D  UCTION.  6  3 

it  contains  also  the  word  allowed,  and  as  it 
distinguishes  improve  from  employ :  — 

"  His  [Chaucer's]  Englysh  well  alowed, 
So  as  it  is  enprowed, 
For  as  it  is  employd, 
There  is  no  English  voyd." 

Here  the  meaning  is  to  profit  by.  In  Ful 
ler's  "Holy  Warre"  (1647),  we  have  "The 
Egyptians  standing  on  the  firm  ground,  were 
thereby  enabled  to  improve  and  enforce  their 
darts  to  the  utmost."  Here  the  word  might 
certainly  mean  to  make  use  of.  Mrs.  Hutch- 
inson  (Life  of  Colonel  H.)  uses  the  word  in 
the  same  way :  "  And  therefore  did  not  em- 
proove  his  interest  to  engage  the  country  in 
the  quarrell."  I  find  it  also  in,  "Strength 
out  of  Weakness "  (1652),  and  Plutarch's 
"  Morals  "  (1714),  but  I  know  of  only  one 
example  of  its  use  in  the  purely  American 
sense,  and  that  is,  "  a  very  good  improve 
ment  for  a  mill "  in  the  "  State  Trials " 
(Speech  of  the  Attorney-General  in  the  Lady 
Ivy's  case,  1684).  In  the  sense  of  employ, 
I  could  cite  a  dozen  old  English  authorities. 
In  running  over  the  fly-leaves  of  those  de 
lightful  folios  for  this  reference,  I  find  a  note 
which  reminds  me  of  another  word,  for  our 
abuse  of  which  we  have  been  deservedly 


64  INTRODUCTION. 

ridiculed.  I  mean  lady.  It  is  true  I  might 
cite  the  example  of  the  Italian  donna l  (do 
mino)  which  has  been  treated  in  the  same 
way  by  a  whole  nation,  and  not,  as  lady 
among  us,  by  the  uncultivated  only.  It  per 
haps  grew  into  use  in  the  half-democratic 
republics  of  Italy  in  the  same  way  and  for 
the  same  reasons  as  with  us.  But  I  admit 
that  our  abuse  of  the  word  is  villanous.  I 
know  of  an  orator  who  once  said  in  a  public 
meeting  where  bonnets  preponderated,  that 
"  the  ladies  were  last  at  the  cross  and  first 
at  the  tomb  "  !  But  similar  sins  were  com 
mitted  before  our  day  and  in  the  mother 
country.  In  the  "  State  Trials  "  I  learn  of 
"a  gentlewoman  that  lives  cook  with"  such 
a  one,  and  I  hear  the  Lord  High  Steward 
speaking  of  the  wife  of  a  waiter  at  a  bagnio 
as  a  gentlewoman  !  From  the  same  author 
ity,  by  the  way,  I  can  state  that  our  vile 
habit  of  chewing  tobacco  had  the  somewhat 
unsavory  example  of  Titus  Gates,  and  I 
know  by  tradition  from  an  eye-witness  that 
the  elegant  General  Burgoyne  partook  of 
the  same  vice.  Howell,  in  one  of  his  letters 
(dated  26  August,  1623),  speaks  thus  of  an- 

l  Dame,  in   English,    is   a   decayed  gentlewoman   of  the 
same  family. 


INTRODUCTION.  65 

other  "  institution  "  which  many  have  thought 
American  :  "  They  speak  much  of  that  bois 
terous  Bishop  of  Halverstadt,  (for  so  they 
term  him  here,)  that,  having  taken  a  place 
wher  ther  were  two  Monasteries  of  Nuns  and 
Friers,  he  caus'd  divers  feather-beds  to  be 
rip'd,  and  all  the  feathers  to  be  thrown  in 
a  great  Hall,  whither  the  Nuns  and  Friers 
were  thrust  naked  with  their  bodies  oil'd 
and  pitch'd,  and  to  tumble  among  the  feath 
ers."  Howell  speaks  as  if  the  thing  were 
new  to  him,  and  I  know  not  if  the  "  boister 
ous"  Bishop  was  the  inventor  of  it,  but  I 
find  it  practised  in  England  before  our  Rev 
olution. 

Before  leaving  the  subject,  I  will  add  a  few 
comments  made  from  time  to  time  on  the 
margin  of  Mr.  Bartlett's  excellent  "  Diction 
ary,"  to  which  I  am  glad  thus  publicly  to 
acknowledge  my  many  obligations.  "  Avails  " 
is  good  old  English,  and  the  vails  of  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds's  porter  are  famous.  Averse 
from,  averse  to,  and  in  connection  with  them 
the  English  vulgarism  "  different  to."  The 
corrupt  use  of  to  in  these  cases,  as  well  as 
in  the  Yankee  "  he  lives  to  Salem,"  "  to 
home,"  and  others,  must  be  a  very  old  one, 
for  in  the  one  case  it  plainly  arose  from  con- 


66  INTRODUCTION. 

founding  the  two  French  prepositions  d  (from 
Latin  ad  and  «6),  and  in  the  other  from 
translating  the  first  of  them.  I  once  thought 
"  different  to  "  a  modern  vulgarism,  and  Mr. 
Thackeray,  on  my  pointing  it  out  to  him  in 
"  Henry  Esmond,"  confessed  it  to  be  an  an 
achronism.  Mr.  Bartlett  refers  to  "  the  old 
writers  quoted  in  Richardson's  Dictionary  " 
for  "  different  to,"  but  in  my  edition  of  that 
work  all  the  examples  are  with  from.  But 
I  find  to  used  invariably  by  Sir  R.  Hawkins 
in  Hakluyt.  Banjo  is  a  negro  corruption 
of  O.  E.  bandore.  Bind-weed  can  hardly 
be  modern,  for  wood-bind  is  old  and  radi 
cally  right,  intertwining  itself  through  bin- 
dan  and  windan  with  classic  stems.  Bob 
olink  :  is  this  a  contraction  for  Bob  o' 
Lincoln  ?  I  find  bobolynes  in  one  of  the 
poems  attributed  to  Skelton,  where  it  may 
be  rendered  giddy-pate,  a  term  very  fit  for 
the  bird  in  his  ecstasies.  Cruel  for  great 
is  in  Hakluyt.  Bowling-alley  is  in  Nash's 
"  Pierce  Pennilesse."  Curious,  meaning 
nice,  occurs  continually  in  old  writers,  and 
is  as  old  as  Pecock's  "  Represser."  Droger 
is  O.  E.  drugger.  Educational  is  in  Burke. 
Feeze  is  only  a  form  of  fizz.  To  fix,  in  the 
American  sense,  I  find  used  by  the  Commis- 


INTRODUCTION.  67 

sioners  of  the  United  Colonies  so  early  as 
1675,  *'  their  arms  well  fixed  and  fit  for  ser 
vice."  To  take  the  foot  in  the  hand  is 
German ;  so  is  to  go  under.  Gundalow  is 
old :  I  find  gundelo  in  Hakluyt,  and  gun- 
dello  in  Booth's  reprint  of  the  folio  Shake 
speare  of  1623.  Gonoff  is  O.  E.  fjnoffe. 
Heap  is  in  "Piers  Ploughman  "  ("  and  other 
names  an  heep  "),  and  in  Hakluyt  ("  seeing 
such  a  heap  of  their  enemies  ready  to  devour 
them  ").  To  liquor  is  in  the  "  Puritan  " 
(" call  'em  in,  and  liquor  'em  a  little").  To 
loaf:  this,  I  think,  is  unquestionably  Ger 
man.  Laufen  is  pronounced  lofen  in  some 
parts  of  Germany,  and  I  once  heard  one 
German  student  say  to  another,  Ich  lauf 
(lofe)  hier  bis  du  wiederkehrest,  and  he  be 
gan  accordingly  to  saunter  up  and  down,  in 
short,  to  loaf.  To  mull,  Mr.  Bartlett  says, 
means  "to  soften,  to  dispirit,"  and  quotes 
from  "  Margaret,"  —  "  There  has  been  a 
pretty  considerable  mullin  going  on  among 
the  doctors,"  —  where  it  surely  cannot  mean 
what  he  says  it  does.  We  have  always  heard 
mulling  used  for  stirring,  bustling,  some 
times  in  an  underhand  way.  It  is  a  meta 
phor  derived  probably  from  mulling  wine, 
Jind  the  word  itself  must  be  a  corruption  of 


68  INTRODUCTION. 

mell,  from  O.  F.  mesler.  Pair  of  stairs  is 
in  Hakluyt.  To  pull  up  stakes  is  in  Cur- 
wen's  Journal,  and  therefore  pre-Revolution- 
ary.  I  think  I  have  met  with  it  earlier. 
Raise  :  under  this  word  Mr.  Bartlett  omits 
"  to  raise  a  house,"  that  is,  the  frame  of  a 
wooden  one,  and  also  the  substantive  formed 
from  it,  a  raisin'.  Setting-poles  cannot  be 
new,  for  I  find  "  some  set  [the  boats]  with 
long  poles  "  in  Hakluyt.  Shoulder-hitters : 
I  find  that  shoulder-striker  is  old,  though  I 
have  lost  the  reference  to  my  authority. 
Snag  is  no  new  word,  though  perhaps  the 
Western  application  of  it  is  so ;  but  I  find 
in  Gill  the  proverb,  "  A  bird  in  the  bag  is 
worth  two  on  the  snag."  Trail:  Hakluyt 
has  "  many  wayes  traled  by  the  wilde 
beastes." 

I  subjoin  a  few  phrases  not  in  Mr.  Bart- 
lett's  book  which  I  have  heard.  Said- 
headed  :  "  to  go  it  bald-headed  " ;  in  great 
haste,  as  where  one  rushes  out  without  his 
hat.  Bogue  :  "  I  don't  git  much  done  'thout 
I  bogue  right  in  along  'th  my  men."  Carry : 
a  portage.  Cat-nap :  a  short  doze.  Cat- 
stick  :  a  small  stick.  Chowder-head :  a 
muddle-brain.  Cling-john :  a  soft  cake  of 
rye.  Cocoa-nut :  the  head.  Cohees' :  ap- 


INTRODUCTION,  69 

plied  to  the  people  of  certain  settlements  in 
Western  Pennsylvania,  from  their  use  of  the 
archaic  form  Quo1  he.  Dunnow'z  I  know  : 
the  nearest  your  true  Yankee  ever  comes 
to  acknowledging  ignorance.  Essence-ped- 
ler :  a  skunk.  First-rate  and  a  half. 
Fish-flakes,  for  drying  fish :  O.  E.  fleck 
(cratis}.  Gander-party:  a  social  gathering 
of  men  only.  Gawnicus :  a  dolt.  Haw 
kins's  whetstone:  rum;  in  derision  of  one 
Hawkins,  a  well-known  temperance-lecturer. 
Hyper  :  to  bustle  :  "  I  mus'  hyper  about  an' 
git  tea."  Keeler-tub :  one  in  which  dishes 
are  washed.  ("  And  Greasy  Joan  doth  keel 
the  pot.")  Laptea :  where  the  guests  are 
too  many  to  sit  at  table.  Last  of  pea-time: 
to  be  hard-up.  Lose-laid  (loose-laid) :  a 
weaver's  term,  and  probably  English  ;  weak- 
willed.  Malahack :  to  cut  up  hastily  or 
awkwardly.  Moonglade :  a  beautiful  word 
for  the  track  of  moonlight  on  the  water. 
Off-ox :  an  unmanageable,  cross-grained  fel 
low.  Old  Driver,  Old  Splitfoot ;  the  Devil. 
Onhitch :  to  pull  trigger  (cf.  Spanish  dis- 
parar).  Popular:  conceited.  Rote:  sound 
of  surf  before  a  storm.  Rot-gut :  cheap 
whiskey ;  the  word  occurs  in  Heywood's 
"  English  Traveller  "  and  Addison's  "  Drum- 


70  INTRODUCTION. 

mer,"  for  a  poor  kind  of  drink.  Seem  :  it 
is  habitual  with  the  New-Englander  to  put 
this  verb  to  strange  uses,  as,  "  I  can't  seem 
to  be  suited,"  "  I  could  n't  seem  to  know 
him."  Sidehill,  for  hillside.  State-house  : 
this  seems  an  Americanism,  whether  invented 
or  derived  from  the  Dutch  Stadhuys,  I  know 
not.  Strike  and  string  :  from  the  game  of 
ninepins  ;  to  make  a  strike  is  to  knock  down 
all  the  pins  with  one  ball,  hence  it  has  come 
to  mean  fortunate,  successful.  Swampers  : 
men  who  break  out  roads  for  lumberers. 
Tormented :  euphemism  for  damned,  as, 
"  not  a  tormented  cent."  Virginia  fence,  to 
make  a :  to  walk  like  a  drunken  man. 

It  is  always  worth  while  to  note  down  the 
erratic  words  or  phrases  which  one  meets 
with  in  any  dialect.  They  may  throw  light 
on  the  meaning  of  other  words,  on  the  re 
lationship  of  languages,  or  even  on  history 
itself.  In  so  composite  a  language  as  ours 
they  often  supply  a  different  form  to  ex 
press  a  different  shade  of  meaning,  as  in  viol 
and  fiddle,  thrid  and  thread,  smother  and 
smoulder,  where  the  I  has  crept  in  by  a  false 
analogy  with  would.  We  have  given  back 
to  England  the  excellent  adjective  lengthy, 
formed  honestly  like  earthy,  drouthy,  and 


INTROD  UCTION.  1 1 

others,  thus  enabling  their  journalists  to 
characterize  our  President's  messages  by  a 
word  civilly  compromising  between  long  and 
tedious,  so  as  not  to  endanger  the  peace  of 
the  two  countries  by  wounding  our  national 
sensitiveness  to  British  criticism.  Let  me 
give  two  curious  examples  of  the  antiseptic 
property  of  dialects  at  which  I  have  already 
glanced.  Dante  has  dindi  as  a  childish  or 
low  word  for  danari  (money),  and  in  Shrop 
shire  small  Roman  coins  are  still  dug  up 
which  the  peasants  call  dinders.  This  can 
hardly  be  a  chance  coincidence,  but  seems 
rather  to  carry  the  word  back  to  the  Roman 
soldiery.  So  our  farmers  say  chuk,  chuk,  to 
their  pigs,  and  ciacco  is  one  of  the  Italian 
words  for  hog.  When  a  countryman  tells 
us  that  he  "  fell  all  of  a  heap"  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  he  unconsciously  points 
to  an  affinity  between  our  word  tumble,  and 
the  Latin  tumulus,  that  is  older  than  most 
others.  I  believe  that  words,  or  even  the 
mere  intonation  of  them,  have  an  astonish 
ing  vitality  and  power  of  propagation  by 
the  root,  like  the  gardener's  pest,  quitch- 
grass,1  while  the  application  or  combination 

1  Which,  whether  in  that  form,  or  under  its  aliases  witch- 
grass  and  coocA-grass,  points  us  back  to  its  original  Saxon 
quick. 


72  INTR  OD  UCTION. 

of  them  may  be  new.  It  is  in  these  last  that 
my  countrymen  seem  to  me  full  of  humor, 
invention,  quickness  of  wit,  and  that  sense  of 
subtle  analogy  which  needs  only  refining-  to 
become  fancy  and  imagination.  Prosaic  as 
American  life  seems  in  many  of  its  aspects 
to  a  European,  bleak  and  bare  as  it  is  on  the 
side  of  tradition,  and  utterly  orphaned  of  the 
solemn  inspiration  of  antiquity,  I  cannot  help 
thinking  that  the  ordinary  talk  of  unlettered 
men  among  us  is  fuller  of  metaphor  and  of 
phrases  that  suggest  lively  images  than  that 
of  any  other  people  I  have  seen.  Very  many 
such  will  be  found  in  Mr.  Bartlett's  book, 
though  his  short  list  of  proverbs  at  the  end 
seem  to  me,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  as 
un-American  as  possible.  Most  of  them 
have  no  character  at  all  but  coarseness,  and 
are  quite  too  long-skirted  for  working  prov 
erbs,  in  which  language  always  "  takes  off 
its  coat  to  it,"  as  a  Yankee  would  say.  There 
are  plenty  that  have  a  more  native  and  puck- 
ery  flavor,  seedlings  from  the  old  stock  often, 
and  yet  new  varieties.  One  hears  such  not 
seldom  among  us  Easterners,  and  the  West 
would  yield  many  more.  "  Mean  enough  to 
steal  acorns  from  a  blind  hog  "  ;  "  Cold  as 
the  north  side  of  a  Jenooary  gravestone  by 


INTRODUCTION.  73 

starlight  "  ;  "  Hungry  as  a  graven  image  "  ; 
"  Pop'lar  as  a  hen  with  one  chicken " ; 
"  Quicker  'n  greased  lightnin'  "  ;  "  Ther  's 
sech  a  thing  ez  bein'  tu  "  ;  "  Stingy  enough 
to  skim  his  milk  at  both  eends  "  ;  "  Hot  as 
the  Devil's  kitchen  "  ;  "  Handy  as  a  pocket 
in  a  shirt "  ;  "  He  's  a  whole  team  and  the 
dog  under  the  wagon "  ;  "  All  deacons  are 
good,  but  there  's  odds  in  deacons  "  (to  dea 
con  berries  is  to  put  the  largest  atop)  ;  "  So 
thievish  they  hev  to  take  in  their  stone  walls 
nights  "  ; 1  may  serve  as  specimens.  "  I  take 
my  tea  barfoot"  said  a  backwoodsman  when 
asked  if  he  would  have  cream  and  sugar. 
(I  find  barfoot,  by  the  way,  in  the  Coventry 
Plays.)  A  man  speaking  to  me  once  of  a 
very  rocky  clearing  said,  "  Stone's  got  a 
pretty  heavy  mortgage  on  that  land,"  and  I 
overheard  a  guide  in  the  woods  say  to  his 
companions  who  were  urging  him  to  sing, 
"  Wai,  I  did  sing  once,  but  toons  gut  in 
vented,  an'  thet  spilt  my  trade."  Whoever 
has  driven  over  a  stream  by  a  bridge  made 
of  slabs  will  feel  the  picturesque  force  of 
the  epithet  slab-bridged  applied  to  a  fellow 

1  And,  by  the  way,  the  Yankee  never  says  "  o'nights," 
but  uses  the  older  adverbial  form,  analogous  to  the  German 
nachts. 


74  INTRO D  UC  TION. 

of  shaky  character.  Almost  every  county 
has  some  good  die-sinker  in  phrase,  whose 
mintage  passes  into  the  currency  of  the  whole 
neighborhood.  Such  a  one  described  the 
county  jail  (the  one  stone  building  where  all 
the  dwellings  are  of  wood)  as  "the  house 
whose  underpinnin'  come  up  to  the  eaves," 
and  called  hell  "  the  place  where  they  did  n't 
rake  up  their  fires  nights."  I  once  asked  a 
stage-driver  if  the  other  side  of  a  hill  were  as 
steep  as  the  one  we  were  climbing :  "  Steep  ? 
chain-lightnin'  could  n'  go  down  it  'thout 
puttin'  the  shoe  on  !  "  And  this  brings  me 
back  to  the  exaggeration  of  which  I  spoke 
before.  To  me  there  is  something  very  taking 
in  the  negro  "  so  black  that  charcoal  made  a 
chalk-mark  on  him,"  and  the  wooden  shingle 
"painted  so  like  marble  that  it  sank  in 
water,"  as  if  its  very  consciousness  or  its 
vanity  had  been  over-persuaded  by  the  cun 
ning  of  the  painter.  I  heard  a  man,  in  order 
to  give  a  notion  of  some  very  cold  weather, 
say  to  another  that  a  certain  Joe,  who  had 
been  taking  mercury,  found  a  lump  of  quick 
silver  in  each  boot,  when  he  went  home  to 
dinner.  This  power  of  rapidly  dramatizing 
a  dry  fact  into  flesh  and  blood,  and  the  vivid 
conception  of  Joe  as  a  human  thermometer, 


INTRODUCTION.  75 

strike  me  as  showing  a  poetic  sense  that  may 
be  refined  into  faculty.     At  any  rate,  there 
is  humor  here,  and  not  mere  quickness  of 
wit,  —  the  deeper  and  not  the  shallower  qual 
ity.     The  tendency  of  humor  is  always  to 
wards  overplus  of  expression,  while  the  very 
essence  of  wit  is  its  logical  precision.     Cap 
tain  Basil  Hall  denied  that  our  people  had 
any  humor,  deceived,  perhaps,  by  their  grav 
ity  of  manner.     But  this  very  seriousness  is 
often  the  outward  sign  of    that   humorous 
quality  of  the  mind  which  delights  in  finding 
an  element  of  identity  in  things  seemingly 
the   most   incongruous,  and   then    again    in 
forcing  an  incongruity  upon  things  identical. 
Perhaps  Captain  Hall   had  no  humor  him 
self,  and  if  so  he  would  never  find  it.     Did 
he  always  feel  the  point  of  what  was  said 
to  himself?     I  doubt  it,  because   I  happen 
to  know  a  chance  he  once  had  given  him 
in  vain.     The  Captain  was  walking  up  and 
down  the  veranda  of  a  country  tavern   in 
Massachusetts,    while    the    coach    changed 
horses.     A  thunder-storm  was  going  on,  and, 
with  that  pleasant  European  air  of  indirect 
self-compliment  in  condescending  to  be  sur 
prised  by  American  merit,  which  we  find  so 
conciliating,  he  said  to  a  countryman  loung- 


76  INTRODUCTION. 

ing  against  the  door,  "  Pretty  heavy  thunder 
you  have  here."  The  other,  who  had  di 
vined  at  a  glance  his  feeling  of  generous 
concession  to  a  new  country,  drawled  gravely, 
"  Waal,  we  du,  considerin'  the  number  of 
inhabitants."  This,  the  more  I  analyze  it, 
the  more  humorous  does  it  seem.  The  same 
man  was  capable  of  wit  also,  when  he  would. 
He  was  a  cabinet-maker,  and  was  once  em 
ployed  to  make  some  commandment-tables 
for  the  parish  meeting-house.  The  parson, 
a  very  old  man,  annoyed  him  by  looking  into 
his  workshop  every  morning,  and  cautioning 
him  to  be  very  sure  to  pick  out  "  clear  ma 
hogany  without  any  knots  in  it."  At  last, 
wearied  out,  he  retorted  one  day,  "  Wai,  Dr. 
B.,  I  guess  ef  I  was  to  leave  the  nots  out  o' 
some  o'  the  c'man'ments,  't  'ould  soot  you 
full  ezwal!" 

If  I  had  taken  the  pains  to  write  down 
the  proverbial  or  pithy  phrases  I  have  heard, 
or  if  I  had  sooner  thought  of  noting  the 
Yankeeisms  I  met  with  in  my  reading,  I 
might  have  been  able  to  do  more  justice  to 
my  theme.  But  I  have  done  all  I  wished  in 
respect  to  pronunciation,  if  I  have  proved 
that  where  we  are  vulgar,  we  have  the  coun 
tenance  of  very  good  company.  For,  as  to 


INTRODUCTION. 


77 


the  jus  et  norma  loquendi,  I  agree  with 
Horace  and  those  who  have  paraphrased  or 
commented  him,  from  Boileau  to  Gray.  I 
think  that  a  good  rule  for  style  is  Galiani's 
definition  of  sublime  oratory,  —  "  Fart  de 
tout  dire  sans  etre  mis  a  la  Bastille  dans  un 
pays  ou  il  est  defendu  de  rien  dire."  I  pro 
fess  myself  a  fanatical  purist,  but  with  a 
hearty  contempt  for  the  speech-gilders  who 
affect  purism  without  any  thorough,  or  even 
pedagogic,  knowledge  of  the  engendure, 
growth,  and  affinities  of  the  noble  language 
about  whose  mesalliances  they  profess  (like 
Dean  Alford)  to  be  so  solicitous.  If  they 
had  their  way  —  !  "  Doch  es  sey,"  says 
Lessing,  "  dass  jene  gothische  Hoflichkeit 
eine  unentbehrliche  Tugend  des  heutigen 
Umganges  ist.  Soil  sie  darum  unsere 
Schriften  eben  so  schaal  und  falsch  machen 
als  unsern  Umgang  ?  "  And  Drayton  was 
not  far  wrong  in  affirming  that 

"  'T  is  possible  to  climb, 
To  kindle,  or  to  slake, 
Although  in  Skelton's  rhyme." 

Cumberland  in  his  Memoirs  tells  us  that 
when  in  the  midst  of  Admiral  Rodney's  great 
sea-fight,  Sir  Charles  Douglas  said  to  him, 
"  Behold,  Sir  George,  the  Greeks  and  Tro- 


78  INTRODUCTION. 

jans  contending  for  the  body  of  Patroclus !  " 
the  Admiral  answered,  peevishly,  "  Damn 
the  Greeks  and  damn  the  Trojans  !  I  have 
other  things  to  think  of."  After  the  battle 
was  won,  Rodney  thus  to  Sir  Charles,  "  Now, 
my  dear  friend,  I  am  at  the  service  of  your 
Greeks  and  Trojans,  and  the  whole  of  Ho 
mer's  Iliad,  or  as  much  of  it  as  you  please  !  " 
I  had  some  such  feeling  of  the  impertinence 
of  our  pseudo-classicality  when  I  chose  our 
homely  dialect  to  work  in.  Should  we  be 
nothing,  because  somebody  had  contrived  to 
be  something  (and  that  perhaps  in  a  provin 
cial  dialect)  ages  ago  ?  and  to  be  nothing  by 
our  very  attempt  to  be  that  something  which 
they  had  already  been,  and  which  therefore 
nobody  could  be  again  without  being  a 
bore  ?  Is  there  no  way  left,  then,  I  thought, 
of  being  natural,  of  being  naif,  which 
means  nothing  more  than  native,  of  belong 
ing  to  the  age  and  country  in  which  you  are 
born  ?  The  Yankee,  at  least,  is  a  new  phe 
nomenon  ;  let  us  try  to  be  that.  It  is  per 
haps  a  pis  aller,  but  is  not  No  Thorough 
fare  written  up  everywhere  else  ?  In  the 
literary  world,  things  seemed  to  me  very 
much  as  they  were  in  the  latter  half  of  the 
last  century.  Pope,  skimming  the  cream 


INTRODUCTION.  79 

of  good  sense  and  expression  wherever  he 
could  find  it,  had  made,  not  exactly  poetry, 
but  an  honest,  salable  butter  of  worldly  wis 
dom  which  pleasantly  lubricated  some  of  the 
drier  morsels  of  life's  daily  bread,  and  see 
ing  this,  scores  of  harmlessly  insane  people 
went  on  for  the  next  fifty  years  coaxing  his 
buttermilk  with  the  regular  up  and  down  of 
the  pentameter  churn.  And  in  our  day,  do 
we  not  scent  everywhere,  and  even  carry 
away  in  our  clothes  against  our  will,  that 
faint  perfume  of  musk  which  Mr.  Tennyson 
has  left  behind  him,  or,  worse,  of  Heine's 
pachouli  ?  And  might  it  not  be  possible  to 
escape  them  by  turning  into  one  of  our  nar 
row  New  England  lanes,  shut  in  though  it 
were  by  bleak  stone  walls  on  either  hand, 
and  where  no  better  flowers  were  to  be 
gathered  than  the  golden-rod  and  the  hard- 
hack? 

Beside  the  advantage  of  getting  out  of 
the  beaten  track,  our  dialect  offered  others 
hardly  inferior.  As  I  was  about  to  make  an 
endeavor  to  state  them,  I  remembered  some 
thing  which  the  clear-sighted  Goethe  had 
said  about  Hebel's  Allemannische  Gedichte, 
which,  making  proper  deduction  for  special 
reference  to  the  book  under  review,  ex- 


80  INTRODUCTION. 

presses  what  I  would  have  said  far  better 
than  I  could  hope  to  do  :  "  Allen  diesen  in- 
nern  guten  Eigenschaften  kommt  die  beha- 
gliche  naive  Sprache  sehr  zu  statten.  Man 
findet  mehrere  sinnlich  bedeutende  und  wohl- 
klingende  Worte  ....  von  einem,  zwei  Buch- 
staben,  Abbreviationen,  Contractionen,  viele 
kurze,  leichte  Sylben,  neue  Reime,  welches, 
mehr  als  man  glaubt,  ein  Yortheil  f  ur  den 
Dichter  ist.  Diese  Elemente  werden  durch 
gliickliche  Constructionen  und  lebhafte  For- 
men  zu  einem  Styl  zusammengedrangt  der 
zu  diesem  Zwecke  vor  unserer  Biichersprache 
grosse  Vorziige  hat."  Of  course  I  do  not 
mean  to  imply  that  I  have  come  near  achiev 
ing  any  such  success  as  the  great  critic  here 
indicates,  but  I  think  the  success  is  there, 
and  to  be  plucked  by  some  more  fortunate 
hand. 

Nevertheless,  I  was  encouraged  by  the  ap 
proval  of  many  whose  opinions  I  valued. 
With  a  feeling  too  tender  and  grateful  to  be 
mixed  with  any  vanity,  I  mention  as  one  of 
these  the  late  A.  H.  Clough,  who,  more  than 
any  one  of  those  I  have  known  (no  longer 
living),  except  Hawthorne,  impressed  me 
with  the  constant  presence  of  that  indefin 
able  thing  we  call  genius.  He  often  sug- 


INT  ROD  UCTION.  8 1 

gested  that  I  should  try  my  hand  at  some 
Yankee  Pastorals,  which  would  admit  of 
more  sentiment  and  a  higher  tone  without 
foregoing  the  advantage  offered  by  the  dia 
lect.  I  have  never  completed  anything  of 
the  kind,  but  in  this  Second  Series,  both  my 
remembrance  of  his  counsel  and  the  deeper 
feeling  called  up  by  the  great  interests  at 
stake  led  me  to  venture  some  passages  nearer 
to  what  is  called  poetical  than  could  have 
been  admitted  without  incongruity  into  the 
former  series.  The  time  seemed  calling  to 
me,  with  the  old  poet,  — 

"Leave,  then,  your  wonted  prattle, 

The  oaten  reed  forbear; 
For  I  hear  a  sound  of  battle, 
And  trumpets  rend  the  air  !  " 

The  only  attempt  I  had  ever  made  at  any 
thing  like  a  pastoral  (if  that  may  be  called 
an  attempt  which  was  the  result  almost  of 
pure  accident)  was  in  "  The  Courtin'." 
While  the  introduction  to  the  First  Series 
was  going  through  the  press,  I  received 
word  from  the  printer  that  there  was  a  blank 
page  left  which  must  be  filled.  I  sat  down 
at  once  and  improvised  another  fictitious 
"  notice  of  the  press,"  in  which,  because 
verse  would  fill  up  space  more  cheaply  than 


82  INTRODUCTION. 

prose,  I  inserted  an  extract  from  a  supposed 
ballad  of  Mr.  Biglow.  I  kept  no  copy  of  it, 
and  the  printer,  as  directed,  cut  it  off  when 
the  gap  was  filled.  Presently  I  began  to 
receive  letters  asking  for  the  rest  of  it,  some 
times  for  the  balance  of  it.  I  had  none,  but 
to  answer  such  demands,  I  patched  a  con 
clusion  upon  it  in  a  later  edition.  Those 
who  had  only  the  first  continued  to  impor 
tune  me.  Afterward,  being  asked  to  write 
it  out  as  an  autograph  for  the  Baltimore 
Sanitary  Commission  Fair,  I  added  other 
verses,  into  some  of  which  I  infused  a  little 
more  sentiment  in  a  homely  way,  and  after 
a  fashion  completed  it  by  sketching  in  the 
characters  and  making  a  connected  story. 
Most  likely  I  have  spoiled  it,  but  I  shall  put 
it  at  the  end  of  this  Introduction,  to  answer 
once  for  all  those  kindly  importunings. 

As  I  have  seen  extracts  from  what  pur 
ported  to  be  writings  of  Mr.  Biglow,  which 
were  not  genuine,  I  may  properly  take  this 
opportunity  to  say,  that  the  two  volumes 
now  published  contain  every  line  I  ever 
printed  under  that  pseudonyme,  and  that  I 
have  never,  so  far  as  I  can  remember,  writ 
ten  an  anonymous  article  (elsewhere  than 
in  the  North  American  Review,  and  the  At- 


INTRODUCTION.  83 

lantlc  Monthly,  during  my  editorship  of  it) 
except  a  review  of  Mrs.  Stowe's  "  Minister's 
Wooing,"  and,  some  twenty  years  ago,  a 
sketch  of  the  anti-slavery  movement  in 
America  for  an  English  journal. 

A  word  more  on  pronunciation.  I  have  en 
deavored  to  express  this  so  far  as  I  could  by 
the  types,  taking  such  pains  as,  I  fear,  may 
sometimes  make  the  reading  harder  than 
need  be.  At  the  same  time,  by  studying 
uniformity  I  have  sometimes  been  obliged 
to  sacrifice  minute  exactness.  The  empha 
sis  often  modifies  the  habitual  sound.  For 
example,  for  is  commonly  far  (a  shorter 
sound  than  fur  fory«r),  but  when  emphatic 
it  always  becomes  for,  as  "  wut  for  ?  "  So 
too  is  pronounced  like  to  (as  it  was  ancient 
ly  spelt),  and  to  like  ta  (the  sound  as  in 
the  tou  of  toucJi),  but  too,  when  emphatic, 
changes  into  tue  and  to,  sometimes,  in  sim 
ilar  cases,  into  toe,  as,  "  I  did  n'  hardly  know 
wut  toe  du !  "  Where  vowels  come  together, 
or  one  precedes  another  following  an  aspi 
rate,  the  two  melt  together,  as  was  common 
with  the  older  poets  who  formed  their  versi 
fication  on  French  or  Italian  models.  Dray- 
ton  is  thoroughly  Yankee  when  he  says  "  I 
'xpect,"  and  Pope  when  he  says  "  t'  inspire." 


84  INTRODUCTION. 

With  becomes  sometimes  'ith,   'uth,  or  'th, 
or  even  disappears  wholly  where   it  comes 
before  the,  as,  "  I  went  along  th'  Square  " 
(along  with  the  Squire),  the  are  sound  being 
an   archaism  which  I  have   noticed  also  in 
choir,  like  the  old  Scottish  quhair.     (Iler- 
rick  has,  "  Of  flowers  ne'er  sucked   by  th' 
theeving   bee.")      Without   becomes    athout 
and  Athout.     Afterwards  always  retains  its 
locative  s,  and  is  pronounced  always  ahter- 
wurds',  with  a  strong  accent  on  the  last  syl 
lable.     This  oddity  has  some  support  in  the 
erratic  towards'  instead  of  to'ivards,  which 
we  find  in  the   poets   and  sometimes  hear. 
The  sound  given  to  the  first  syllable  of  to'- 
wards,  I  may  remark,  sustains  the  Yankee 
lengthening  of  the  o  in  to.     At  the  begin 
ning  of  a  sentence,  ahterwurds  has  the  ac 
cent  on  the  first  syllable ;  at  the  end  of  one, 
on  the  last ;  as  ah'terwurds  he  tol'  me,"  "  ho 
tol'  me   ahterwurds' "     The   Yankee  never 
makes  a  mistake  in  his  aspirates.      U  changes 
in  many  words  to  e,  always  in  such,  brush, 
tush,    hush,  rush,   blush,   seldom  in  much, 
oftener  in  trust  and  crust,  never  in  mush, 
gust,  bust,  tumble,  or  (?)  flush,  in  the  latter 
case  probably  to  avoid  confusion  with  flesh. 
I  have  heard  flush  with  the  e  sound,  how- 


INTRODUCTION.  85 

ever.  For  the  same  reason,  I  suspect,  never 
in  gush,  (at  least,  I  never  heard  it,)  because 
we  have  already  one  gesh  for  gash.  A  and 
i  short  frequently  become  e  short.  U  al 
ways  becomes  o  in  the  prefix  un  (except 
unto},  and  o  in  return  changes  to  u  short  in 
uv  for  of,  and  in  some  words  beginning  with 
om.  T  and  d,  b  and  p,  v  and  w,  remain 
intact.  So  much  occurs  to  me  in  addition 
to  what  I  said  on  this  head  in  the  preface 
to  the  former  volume. 

Of  course  in  what  I  have  said  I  wish  to 
be  understood  as  keeping  in  mind  the  dif 
ference  between  provincialisms  properly  so 
called  and  slang.  Slang  is  always  vulgar, 
because  it  is  not  a  natural  but  an  affected 
way  of  talking,  and  all  mere  tricks  of  speech 
or  writing  are  offensive.  I  do  not  think  that 
Mr.  Biglow  can  be  fairly  charged  with  vul 
garity,  and  I  should  have  entirely  failed  in 
my  design,  if  I  have  not  made  it  appear  that 
high  and  even  refined  sentiment  may  coexist 
with  the  shrewder  and  more  comic  elements 
of  the  Yankee  character.  I  believe  that  what 
is  essentially  vulgar  and  mean-spirited  in 
politics  seldom  has  its  source  in  the  body  of 
the  people,  but  much  rather  among  those 
who  are  made  timid  by  their  wealth  or  self- 


86  INTRODUCTION. 

ish  by  their  love  of  power.  A  democracy 
can  afford  much  better  than  an  aristocracy 
to  follow  out  its  convictions,  and  is  perhaps 
better  qualified  to  build  those  convictions  on 
plain  principles  of  right  and  wrong,  rather 
than  on  the  shifting  sands  of  expediency.  I 
had  always  thought  "  Sam  Slick  "  a  libel  on 
the  Yankee  character,  and  a  complete  falsi 
fication  of  Yankee  modes  of  speech,  though, 
for  aught  I  know,  it  may  be  true  in  both 
respects  so  far  as  the  British  Provinces  are 
concerned.  To  me  the  dialect  was  native, 
was  spoken  all  about  me  when  a  boy,  at  a 
time  when  an  Irish  day-laborer  was  as  rare 
as  an  American  one  now.  Since  then  I  have 
made  a  study  of  it  so  far  as  opportunity  al 
lowed.  But  when  I  write  in  it,  it  is  as  in  a 
mother  tongue,  and  I  am  carried  back  far 
beyond  any  studies  of  it  to  long-ago  noonings 
in  my  father's  hay-fields,  and  to  the  talk  of 
Sam  and  Job  over  their  jug  of  blackstrap 
under  the  shadow  of  the  ash-tree  which  still 
dapples  the  grass  whence  they  have  been 
gone  so  long. 

But  life  is  short,  and  prefaces  should  be. 
And  so,  my  good  friends,  to  whom  this 
introductory  epistle  is  addressed,  farewell. 
Though  some  of  you  have  remonstrated 


INTRODUCTION.  87 

with  me,  I  shall  never  write  any  more  "  Big- 
low  Papers,"  however  great  the  temptation, 
— great  especially  at  the  present  time, —  un 
less  it  be  to  complete  the  original  plan  of 
this  Series  by  bringing  out  Mr.  Sawin  as  an 
"  original  Union  man."  The  very  favor 
with  which  they  have  been  received  is  a  hin 
drance  to  me,  by  forcing  on  me  a  self-con 
sciousness  from  which  I  was  entirely  free 
when  I  wrote  the  First  Series.  Moreover,  I 
am  no  longer  the  same  careless  youth,  with 
nothing  to  do  but  live  to  myself,  my  books, 
and  my  friends,  that  I  was  then.  I  always 
hated  politics,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the 
word,  and  I  am  not  likely  to  grow  fonder  of 
them,  now  that  I  have  learned  how  rare  it  is 
to  find  a  man  who  can  keep  principle  clear 
from  party  and  personal  prejudice,  or  can 
conceive  the  possibility  of  another's  doing 
so.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  in  some  sort  claim 
to  be  an  emeritus,  and  I  am  sure  that  polit 
ical  satire  will  have  full  justice  done  it  by 
that  genuine  and  delightful  humorist,  the 
Rev.  Petroleum  V.  Nasby.  I  regret  that  I 
killed  off  Mr.  Wilbur  so  soon,  for  he  would 
have  enabled  me  to  bring  into  this  preface  a 
number  of  learned  quotations,  which  must 
now  go  a-begging,  and  would  have  enabled 


88  INTRODUCTION. 

me  to  dispersonalize  myself  into  a  vicarious 
egotism.  He  would  have  helped  me  also  in 
clearing  myself  from  a  charge  which  I  shall 
briefly  touch  on,  because  my  friend  Mr. 
Hughes  has  found  it  needful  to  defend  me 
in  his  preface  to  one  of  the  English  editions 
of  the  "Biglow  Papers."  I  thank  Mr. 
Hughes  heartily  for  his  friendly  care  of  my 
good  name,  and  were  his  Preface  accessible 
to  my  readers  here,  (as  I  am  glad  it  is  not, 
for  its  partiality  makes  me  blush,)  I  should 
leave  the  matter  where  he  left  it.  The 
charge  is  of  profanity,  brought  in  by  per 
sons  who  proclaimed  African  slavery  of  Di 
vine  institution,  and  is  based  (so  far  as  I 
have  heard)  on  two  passages  in  the  First 
Series,  — 

"  An'  you  've  gut  to  git  up  airly, 
Ef  you  want  to  take  in  God," 

and, 

"  God  '11  send  the  bill  to  you,"  — 

and  on  some  Scriptural  illustrations  by  Mr. 
Sawin.  Now,  in  the  first  place,  I  was  writ 
ing  under  an  assumed  character,  and  must 
talk  as  the  person  would  whose  mouthpiece 
I  made  myself.  Will  any  one  familiar  with 
the  New  England  countryman  venture  to  tell 
me  that  he  does  not  speak  of  sacred  things 


INTRODUCTION.  89 

familiarly?  that  Biblical  allusions  (allu 
sions,  that  is,  to  the  single  book  with  whose 
language,  from  his  church-going  habits,  he 
is  intimate)  are  not  frequent  on  his  lips? 
If  so,  he  cannot  have  pursued  his  studies  of 
the  character  on  so  many  long-ago  muster- 
fields  and  at  so  many  cattle-shows  as  I. 
But  I  scorn  any  such  line  of  defence,  and 
will  confess  at  once  that  one  of  the  things  I 
am  proud  of  in  my  countrymen  is  (I  am  not 
speaking  now  of  such  persons  as  I  have  as 
sumed  Mr.  Sawin  to  be)  that  they  do  not 
put  their  Maker  away  far  from  them,  or  in 
terpret  the  fear  of  God  into  being  afraid 
of  Him.  The  Talmudists  had  conceived  a 
deep  truth  when  they  said,  that  "  all  things 
were  in  the  power  of  God,  save  the  fear  of 
God ; "  and  when  people  stand  in  great 
dread  of  an  invisible  power,  I  suspect  they 
mistake  quite  another  personage  for  the 
Deity.  I  might  justify  myself  for  the  pas 
sages  criticised  by  many  parallel  ones  from 
Scripture,  but  I  need  not.  The  Reverend 
Homer  Wilbur's  note-books  supply  me  with 
three  apposite  quotations.  The  first  is  from 
a  Father  of  the  Roman  Church,  the  second 
from  a  Father  of  the  Anglican,  and  the  third 
from  a  Father  of  modern  English  poetry. 


90  INTRODUCTION. 

The  Puritan  divines  would  furnish  me  with 
many  more  such.  St.  Bernard  says,  Sapiens 
nummularius  est  Deus :  nummum  jlctum 
non  recipiet ;  "  A  cunning  money-changer  is 
God :  he  will  take  in  no  base  coin."  Lati- 
mer  says,  "  You  shall  perceive  that  God,  by 
this  example,  shaketh  us  by  the  noses  and 
taketh  us  by  the  ears."  Familiar  enough, 
both  of  them,  one  would  say !  But  I  should 
think  Mr.  Biglow  had  verily  stolen  the  last 
of  the  two  maligned  passages  from  Dryden's 
"  Don  Sebastian,"  where  I  find 

"And  beg  of  Heaven  to  charge  the  bill  on  me  !  " 

And  there  I  leave  the  matter,  being  willing 
to  believe  that  the  Saint,  the  Martyr,  and 
even  the  Poet,  were  as  careful  of  God's 
honor  as  my  critics  are  ever  likely  to  be. 

J.  R.  L. 


INTRODUCTION.  91 


THE  COURTIN'. 

GOD  makes  sech  nights,  all  white  an'  still 

Fur  'z  you  can  look  or  listen, 
Moonshine  an'  snow  on  field  an'  hill, 

All  silence  an'  all  glisten. 

Zekle  crep'  up  quite  unbeknown 
An'  peeked  in  thru'  the  winder, 

An'  there  sot  Huldy  all  alone, 
'Ith  no  one  nigh  to  hender. 

A  fireplace  filled  the  room  's  one  side 
With  half  a  cord  o'  wood  in  — 

There  warn't  no  stoves  (tell  comfort  died) 
To  bake  ye  to  a  puddin'. 

The  wa'nut  logs  shot  sparkles  out 
Towards  the  pootiest,  bless  her, 

An'  leetle  flames  danced  all  about 
The  chiny  on  the  dresser. 

Agin  the  chimbley  crook-necks  hung, 

An'  in  amongst  'em  rusted 
The  ole  queen's-arm  thet  gran'ther  Young 

Fetched  back  from  Concord  busted. 


92  INTRODUCTION. 

The  very  room,  coz  she  was  in, 

Seemed  warm  from  floor  to  ceilin', 

An'  she  looked  full  ez  rosy  agin 
Ez  the  apples  she  was  peelin'. 

'T  was  kin'  o'  kingdom-come  to  look 

On  sech  a  blessed  cretur, 
A  dogrose  blushin'  to  a  brook 

Ain't  modester  nor  sweeter. 

He  was  six  foot  o'  man,  A  1, 
Clean  grit  an'  human  natur' ; 

None  could  n't  quicker  pitch  a  ton 
Nor  dror  a  furrer  straighter. 

He  'd  sparked  it  with  full  twenty  gals, 
Hed  squired  'em,  danced  'em,  druv  'em, 

Fust  this  one,  an'  then  thet,  by  spells  — 
All  is,  he  could  n't  love  'em. 

But  long  o'  her  his  veins  'ould  run 
All  crinkly  like  curled  maple, 

The  side  she  breshed  felt  full  o'  sun 
Ez  a  south  slope  in  Ap'il. 

She  thought  no  v'ice  bed  sech  a  swing 

Ez  hisn  in  the  choir  ; 
My !  when  he  made  Ole  Hunderd  ring, 

She  knowed  the  Lord  was  nigher. 


INTRODUCTION.  93 

An'  she  'd  blush  scarlit,  right  in  prayer, 

When  her  new  meetin'-bunnet 
Felt  somehow  thru'  its  crown  a  pair 

O'  blue  eyes  sot  upon  it. 

Thet  night,  I  tell  ye,  she  looked  some  ! 

She  seemed  to  've  gut  a  new  soul, 
For  she  felt  sartin-sure  he  'd  come, 

Down  to  her  very  shoe-sole. 

She  heered  a  foot,  an'  knowed  it  tu, 

A-raspin'  on  the  scraper,  — 
All  ways  to  once  her  feelins  flew 

Like  sparks  in  burnt-up  paper. 

He  kin'  o'  litered  on  the  mat 

Some  doubtfle  o'  the  sekle, 
His  heart  kep'  goin'  pity-pat, 

But  hern  went  pity  Zekle. 

An'  yit  she  gin  her  cheer  a  jerk 
Ez  though  she  wished  him  furder, 

An'  on  her  apples  kep'  to  work, 
Parin'  away  like  murder. 

"  You  want  to  see  my  Pa,  I  s'pose  ?  " 

''  Wai  ...  no  ...  I  come  dasignin'  "  — 

"  To  see  my  Ma  ?     She  's  sprinklin'  clo'es 
Agin  to-morrer's  i'nin'." 


94  INTRODUCTION. 

To  say  why  gals  acts  so  or  so, 
Or  don't,  'ould  be  presumin' ; 

Mebby  to  mean  yes  an'  say  no 
Comes  nateral  to  women. 

He  stood  a  spell  on  one  foot  fust, 
Then  stood  a  spell  on  t'other, 

An'  on  which  one  he  felt  the  wust 
He  could  n't  ha'  told  ye  nuther. 

Says  he,  "  1  'd  better  call  agin  ;  " 
Says  she,  "  Think  likely,  Mister  ;  " 

Thet  last  word  pricked  him  like  a  pin, 
An'  .  .  .  Wai,  he  up  an'  lust  her. 

When  Ma  bimeby  upon  'em  slips, 

Huldy  sot  pale  ez  ashes, 
All  kin'  o'  smily  roun'  the  lips 

An'  teary  roun'  the  lashes. 

For  she  was  jes'  the  quiet  kind 

Whose  naturs  never  vary, 
Like  streams  that  keep  a  summer  mind 

Snowhid  in  Jenooary. 

The  blood  clost  roun'  her  heart  felt  glued 
Too  tight  for  all  expressing 

Tell  mother  see  how  metters  stood, 
And  gin  'em  both  her  blessin'. 


INTRODUCTION.  95 

Then  her  red  come  back  like  the  tide 

Down  to  the  Bay  o'  Fundy, 
An'  all  I  know  is  they  was  cried 

In  meetin'  come  nex'  Sunday. 


THE   BIGLOW   PAPERS. 


No.  I. 

BIRDOFREDUM    SAWIN,   ESQ.,  TO  MR. 
HOSEA  BIGLOW. 

LETTER    FROM    THE    REVEREND     HOMER   WILBUR, 
M.    A.,    ENCLOSING    THE    EPISTLE    AFORESAID. 

JAALAM,  15th  Nov.,  1861. 

IT  is  not  from  any  idle  wish  to  obtrude 
my  humble  person  with  undue  prominence 
upon  the  public  view  that  I  resume  my  pen 
upon  the  present  occasion.  Juniores  ad  la- 
bores.  But  having  been  a  main  instrument 
in  rescuing  the  talent  of  my  young  parish 
ioner  from  being  buried  in  the  ground,  by 
giving  it  such  warrant  with  the  world  as 
could  be  derived  from  a  name  already  widely 
known  by  several  printed  discourses  (all  of 
which  I  may  be  permitted  without  immod 
esty  to  state  have  been  deemed  worthy  of 
preservation  in  the  Library  of  Harvard  Col- 


98  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

lege  by  nay  esteemed  friend  Mr.  Sibley),  it 
seemed  becoming  that  I  should  not  only  tes 
tify  to  the  genuineness  of  the  following  pro 
duction,  but  call  attention  to  it,  the  more  as 
Mr.  Billow  had  so  long  been  silent  as  to  be 

O  O 

in  danger  of  absolute  oblivion.     I  insinuate 

O 

no  claim  to  any  share  in  the  authorship  (vix 
ea  nostra  voco)  of  the  works  already  pub 
lished  by  Mr.  Biglow,  but  merely  take  to 
myself  the  credit  of  having  fulfilled  toward 
them  the  office  of  taster  (experto  crede), 
who,  having  first  tried,  could  afterward  bear 
witness  (credenzen  it  was  aptly  named  by 
the  Germans),  an  office  always  arduous,  and 
sometimes  even  dangerous,  as  in  the  case  of 
those  devoted  persons  who  venture  their 
lives  in  the  deglutition  of  patent  medicines 
(dolus  latetin  generalibus,  there  is  deceit  in 
the  most  of  them)  and  thereafter  are  wonder 
fully  preserved  long  enough  to  append  their 
signatures  to  testimonials  in  the  diurnal  and 
hebdomadal  prints.  I  say  not  this  as  cov 
ertly  glancing  at  the  authors  of  certain  man 
uscripts  which  have  been  submitted  to  my 
literary  judgment  (though  an  epic  in  twen 
ty-four  books  on  the  ''  Taking  of  Jericho " 
might,  save  for  the  prudent  forethought  of 
Mrs.  Wilbur  in  secreting  the  same  just  as  I 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  99 

had  arrived  beneath  the  walls  and  was  be 
ginning  a  catalogue  of  the  various  horns  and 
their  blowers,  too  ambitiously  emulous  in  lon 
ganimity  of  Homer's  list  of  ships,  —  might, 
I  say,  have  rendered  frustrate  any  hope  I 
could  entertain  vacare  Musis  for  the  small 
remainder  of  my  days),  but  only  the  further 
to  secure  myself  against  any  imputation  of 
unseemly  forthputting.  I  will  barely  sub 
join,  in  this  connection,  that,  whereas  Job 
was  left  to  desire,  in  the  soreness  of  his 
heart,  that  his  adversary  had  written  a  book, 
as  perchance  misanthropically  wishing  to 
indite  a  review  thereof,  yet  was  not  Satan 
allowed  so  far  to  tempt  him  as  to  send  Bil- 
dad,  Eliphaz,  and  Zophar  each  with  an  un- 
printed  work  in  his  wallet  to  be  submitted 
to  his  censure.  But  of  this  enough.  Were 
I  in  need  of  other  excuse,  I  might  add  that 
I  write  by  the  express  desire  of  Mr.  Big- 
low  himself,  whose  entire  winter  leisure  is 
occupied,  as  he  assures  me,  in  answering 
demands  for  autographs,  a  labor  exacting 
enough  in  itself,  and  egregiously  so  to  him, 
who,  being  no  ready  penman,  cannot  sign  so 
much  as  his  name  without  strange  contor 
tions  of  the  face  (his  nose,  even,  being  es 
sential  to  complete  success)  and  painfully 


100  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

suppressed  Saint -Vitus-dance  of  every  mus 
cle  in  his  body.  This,  with  his  having  been 
put  in  the  Commission  of  the  Peace  by  our 
excellent  Governor  (  0,  si  sic  omnes  !  )  im 
mediately  on  his  accession  to  office,  keeps 
him  continually  employed.  Hand  inexper- 
tus  loquor,  having  for  many  years  written 
myself  J.  P.,  and  being  not  seldom  applied 
to  for  specimens  of  my  chirography,  a  re 
quest  to  which  I  have  sometimes  over  weakly 
assented,  believing  as  I  do  that  nothing  writ 
ten  of  set  purpose  can  properly  be  called  an 
autograph,  but  only  these  unpremeditated 
sallies  and  lively  runnings  which  betray  the 
fireside  Man  instead  of  the  hunted  Notoriety 
doubling  on  his  pursuers.  But  it  is  time 
that  I  should  bethink  me  of  St.  Austin's 
prayer,  libera  me  a  meipso,  if  I  would  ar 
rive  at  the  matter  in  hand. 

Moreover,  I  had  yet  another  reason  for 
taking  up  the  pen  myself.  I  am  informed 
that  the  Atlantic  Monthly  is  mainly  in 
debted  for  its  success  to  the  contributions  and 
editorial  supervision  of  Dr.  Holmes,  whose 
excellent  "  Annals  of  America  "  occupy  an 
honored  place  upon  my  shelves.  The  jour 
nal  itself  I  have  never  seen ;  but  if  this  be 
so,  it  might  seem  that  the  recommendation 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  101 

of  a  brother-clergyman  (though  par  magis 
quam  similis}  should  carry  a  greater  weight. 
I  suppose  that  you  have  a  department  for 
historical  lucubrations,  and  should  be  glad, 
if  deemed  desirable,  to  forward  for  publica 
tion  my  "  Collections  for  the  Antiquities  of 
Jaalam,"  and  my  (now  happily  complete) 
pedigree  of  the  Wilbur  family  from  itst/bns 
et  origo,  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes.  With 
drawn  from  the  active  duties  of  my  profes 
sion  by  the  settlement  of  a  colleague-pastor, 
the  Reverend  Jeduthun  Hitchcock,  formerly 
of  Brutus  Four-Corners,  I  might  find  tin-.e 
for  further  contributions  to  general  litera 
ture  on  similar  topics.  I  have  made  large 
advances  towards  a  completer  genealogy  of 
Mrs.  Wilbur's  family,  the  Pilcoxes,  not,  if  I 
know  myself,  from  any  idle  vanity,  but  with 
the  sole  desire  of  rendering  myself  useful  in 
my  day  and  generation.  Nulla  dies  sine 
lined.  I  inclose  a  meteorological  register, 
a  list  of  the  births,  deaths,  and  marriages, 
and  a  few  memorabilia  of  longevity  in  Jaa 
lam  East  Parish  for  the  last  half-century. 
Though  spared  to  the  unusual  period  of 
more  than  eighty  years,  I  find  no  diminution 
of  my  faculties  or  abatement  of  my  natural 
vigor,  except  a  scarcely  sensible  decay  of 


102  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

memory  and  a  necessity  of  recurring  to 
younger  eyesight  or  spectacles  for  the  finer 
print  in  Cruden.  It  would  gratify  me  to 
make  some  further  provision  for  declining 
years  from  the  emoluments  of  my  literary 
labors.  I  had  intended  to  effect  an  insur 
ance  on  my  life,  but  was  deterred  therefrom 
by  a  circular  from  one  of  the  offices,  in 
which  the  sudden  death  of  so  large  a  propor 
tion  of  the  insured  was  set  forth  as  an  in 
ducement,  that  it  seemed  to  me  little  less 
than  a  tempting  of  Providence.  Neque  in 
summd  inopid  levis  esse  senectus  potest,  ne 
sapienti  quidem. 

Thus  far  concerning  Mr.  Biglow ;  and  so 
much  seemed  needful  (brevis  esse  laboro^) 
by  way  of  preliminary,  after  a  silence  of 
fourteen  years.  He  greatly  fears  lest  he  may 
in  this  essay  have  fallen  below  himself,  well 
knowing  that,  if  exercise  be  dangerous  on  a 
full  stomach,  no  less  so  is  writing  on  a  full 
reputation.  Beset  as  he  has  been  on  all 
sides,  he  could  not  refrain,  and  would  only 
imprecate  patience  till  he  shall  again  have 
"got  the  hang  "  (as  he  calls  it)  of  an  accom 
plishment  long  disused.  The  letter  of  Mr. 
Sawin  was  received  some  time  in  last  June, 
and  others  have  followed  which  will  in  due 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  103 

season  be  submitted  to  the  public.  How 
largely  his  statements  are  to  be  depended  on, 
I  more  than  merely  dubitate.  He  was  al 
ways  distinguished  for  a  tendency  to  exag 
geration  —  it  might  almost  be  qualified  by 
a  stronger  term.  Portiter  mentire,  aliquid 
hceret,  seemed  to  be  his  favorite  rule  of  rhet 
oric.  That  he  is  actually  where  he  says  he 
is  the  post-mark  would  seem  to  confirm  ;  that 
he  was  received  with  the  public  demonstra 
tions  he  describes  would  appear  consonant 
with  what  we  know  of  the  habits  of  those  re 
gions  ;  but  further  than  this  I  venture  not  to 
decide.  I  have  sometimes  suspected  a  vein 
of  humor  in  him  which  leads  him  to  speak 
by  contraries  ;  but  since,  in  the  unstrained 
intercourse  of  private  life,  I  have  never  ob 
served  in  him  any  striking  powers  of  inven 
tion,  I  am  the  more  willing  to  put  a  certain 
qualified  faith  in  the  incidents  and  details 
of  life  and  manners  which  give  to  his  narra 
tives  some  portion  of  the  interest  and  enter 
tainment  which  characterizes  a  Century  Ser 
mon. 

It  may  be  expected  of  me  that  I  should 
say  something  to  justify  myself  with  the 
world  for  a  seeming  inconsistency  with  my 
well-known  principles  in  allowing  my  young- 


104  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

est  son  to  raise  a  company  for  the  war,  a  fact 
known  to  all  through  the  medium  of  the 
public  prints.  I  did  reason  with  the  young 
man,  but  expellas  naturam  furcd,  tamen 
usque  recurrit.  Having  myself  been  a  chap 
lain  in  1812,  I  could  the  less  wonder  that  a 
man  of  war  had  sprung  from  my  loins.  It 
was,  indeed,  grievous  to  send  my  Benjamin, 
the  child  of  my  old  age  ;  but  after  the  dis 
comfiture  of  Manassas,  I  with  my  own  hands 
did  buckle  on  his  armor,  trusting  in  the  great 
Comforter  and  Commander  for  strength  ac 
cording  to  my  need.  For  truly  the  memory 
of  a  brave  son  dead  in  his  shroud  were  a 
greater  staff  of  my  declining  years  than  a 
living  coward,  (if  those  may  be  said  to  have 
lived  who  carry  all  of  themselves  into  the 
grave  with  them),  though  his  days  might  be 
long  in  the  land,  and  he  should  get  much 
goods.  It  is  not  till  our  earthen  vessels  are 
broken  that  we  find  and  truly  possess  the 
treasure  that  was  laid  up  in  them.  Migravi 
in  animam  meam,  I  have  sought  refuge  in 
my  own  soul ;  nor  would  I  be  shamed  by  the 
heathen  comedian  with  his  Nequam  illud 
verbum,  bene  vult,  nisi  bene  facit.  During 
our  dark  days,  I  read  constantly  in  the  in 
spired  book  of  Job,  which  I  believe  to  con- 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  105 

tain  more  food  to  maintain  the  fibre  of  the 
soul  for  right  living  and  high  thinking  than 
all  pagan  literature  together,  though  I  would 
by  no  means  vilipend  the  study  of  the  clas 
sics.  There  I  read  that  Job  said  in  his  de 
spair,  even  as  the  fool  saith  in  his  heart 
there  is  no  God,  "  The  tabernacles  of  rob 
bers  prosper,  and  they  that  provoke  God  are 
secure."  (Job  xii.  6.)  But  I  sought  farther 
till  I  found  this  Scripture  also,  which  I  would 
have  those  perpend  who  have  striven  to  turn 
our  Israel  aside  to  the  worship  of  strange 
gods  :  "  If  I  did  despise  the  cause  of  my 
man-servant  or  of  my  maid-servant  when 
they  contended  with  me,  what  then  shall  I 
do  when  God  riseth  up  ?  and  when  he  visit- 
eth,  what  shall  I  answer  him  ?  "  (Job  xxxi. 
13,  14.)  On  this  text  I  preached  a  discourse 
on  the  last  day  of  Fasting  and  Humiliation 
with  general  acceptance,  though  there  were 
not  wanting  one  or  two  Laodiceans  who  said 
that  I  should  have  waited  till  the  President 
announced  his  policy.  But  let  us  hope  and 
pray,  remembering  this  of  Saint  Gregory, 
Vult  Deus  rogari,  vult  cogi,  vult  quadam 
importunitate  vinci. 

We  had  our  first  fall  of  snow  on  Friday 
last.     Frosts  have  been  unusually  backward 


106  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

this  fall.  A  singular  circumstance  occurred 
in  this  town  on  the  20th  October,  in  the  fam 
ily  of  Deacon  Pelatiah  Tinkham.  On  the 
previous  evening,  a  few  moments  before  fam 
ily-prayers, 

[The  editors  of  the  Atlantic  find  it  neces 
sary  here  to  cut  short  the  letter  of  their  val 
ued  correspondent,  which  seemed  calculated 
rather  on  the  rates  of  longevity  in  Jaalam 
than  for  less  favored  localities.  They  have 
every  encouragement  to  hope  that  he  will 
write  again.] 

With  esteem  and  respect, 
Your  obedient  servant, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.  M. 


IT  's  some  consid'ble  of  a  spell  sence  I  hain't  writ 

no  letters, 
An'  ther'  's  gret  changes  hez  took  place  in  all  po- 

lit'cle  metters  : 
Some  canderdates  air  dead  an'  gone,  an'  some 

hez  ben  defeated, 
Which  'mounts  to  pooty  much  the  same ;  fer  it 's 

ben  proved  repeated 
A  betch  o'  bread  thet  hain't  riz  once  ain't  goin' 

to  rise  agin, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  107 

An'   it 's  jest  money  throwed  away   to   put  the 

emptins  in : 
But  thet  's  wut  folks  wun't  never  larn ;  they  dunno 

how  to  go, 

Arter  you  want  their  room,  no  more  'n  a  bullet- 
headed  beau ; 
Ther'  's  oilers  chaps   a-hangin'  roun'  thet  can't 

see  pea-time  's  past, 
Mis'ble   as   roosters  in  a  rain,  heads  down  an' 

tails  half-mast : 
It  ain't  disgraceful  bein'  beat,  when  a  holl  nation 

doos  it, 
But  Chance  is  like  an  amberill,  —  it  don't  take 

twice  to  lose  it. 

I  spose  you  're  kin'  o'  cur'ous,  now,  to  know  why 

I  hain't  writ. 

Wai,  I'  ve  ben  where  a  litt'ry  taste  don't  some 
how  seem  to  git 
Th'  encouragement  a  feller  'd  think,  thet 's  used 

to  public  schools, 
An'  where  sech  things  ez  paper  'n'  ink  air  clean 

agin  the  rules : 
A  kind  o'  vicy  varsy  house,  built  dreffle  strong  an' 

stout, 
So  's  't  honest  people  can't  git  in,  ner  t'  other  sort 

git  out, 
An'  with  the  winders  so  contrived,  you  'd  prob'ly 

like  the  view 
Better  alookin'  in  than  out,  though  it  seems  sin- 

g'lar,  tu ; 


108  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

But  then  the  landlord  sets  by  ye,  can't  bear  ye 

out  o'  sight, 
And  locks  ye  up  ez  reg'lar  ez  an  outside  door  at 

night. 

This   world   is    awfle    contrary :    the  .rope   may 

stretch  your  neck 
Thet  mebby  kep'  another  chap  from  washin'  off 

a  wreck ; 
An'  you  may  see  the  taters  grow  in  one  poor 

feller's  patch, 
So  small  no  self-respectin'  hen  thet  vallied  time 

'ould  scratch, 
So  small  the  rot  can't  find  'em  out,  an'  then  agin' 

nex'  door, 
Ez  big  ez  wut  hogs  dream  on  when  they  're  'most 

too  fat  to  snore. 
But  groutin'  ain't  no  kin'  o'  use ;  an'  ef  the  fust 

throw  fails, 
Why,  up  an'  try  agin,  thet 's  all,  —  the  coppers 

ain't  all  tails ; 
Though  I   hev  seen  'em  when   I  thought  they 

hed  n't  no  more  head 
Than  'd  sarve  a  nussin'  Brigadier  thet  gits  some 

ink  to  shed. 

When  I  writ  last,  I  'd  ben  turned  loose  by  thet 

blamed  nigger,  Pomp, 
Ferlorner  than  a  musquash,  ef  you  'd  took  an' 

dreened  his  swamp : 


TEE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  109 

But  I  ain't  o'  the  meechin'  kind,  thet  sets  an' 

thinks  fer  weeks 
The  bottom  's  out  o'  th'  univarse  coz  their  own 

gillpot  leaks. 
I  hed  to  cross  bayous  an'  criks,  (wal,  it  did  beat 

all  natur',) 

Upon  a  kin'  o'  corderoy,  fust  log,  then  alligator  : 
Luck'ly  the  critters  warn't  sharp-sot ;    I   guess 

't  wuz  overruled, 
They  'd  done  their  mornin's  marketin'  an'  gut 

their  hunger  cooled ; 
Fer  missionaries  to  the  Creeks  an'  runaways  are 

viewed 
By  them  an'  folks  ez  sent  express  to  be  their  reg- 

'lar  food : 

Wutever  't  wuz,  they  laid  an'  snoozed  ez  peace 
fully  ez  sinners, 

Meek  ez  disgestin'  deacons  be  at  ordination  din 
ners  ; 
Ef  any  on  'em  turned  an'  snapped,  I  let  'em  kin' 

o'  taste 
My  live-oak  leg,  an'  so,  ye  see,  ther'  warn't  no 

gret  o'  waste ; 
Fer  they  found  out  in  quicker  time  than  if  they  'd 

ben  to  college 
'T  warn't  heartier  food  than  though  't  wuz  made 

out  o'  the  tree  o'  knowledge. 
But  /  tell  you  my  other  leg  hed  larned  wut  pizon- 

nettle  meant, 
An'  var'ous  other  usefle  things,  afore  I  reached  a 

settlement, 


110  THE  SI  GLOW  PAPERS. 

An'  all  o'  me  thet  wuz  n't  sore  an'  sendin'  pric 
kles  thru  me 

Wuz  jest  the  leg  I  parted  with  in  lickin'  Monte- 
zumy  : 

A  usefle  limb  it 's  ben  to  me,  an'  more  of  a  sup 
port 

Than  wut  the  other  hez  ben,  —  coz  I  dror  my 
pension  for  't. 

Wai,  I  got  in  at  last  where  folks  wuz  civerlized 

an'  white, 
Ez  I  diskivered  to  my  cost  afore  't  warn 't  hardly 

night ; 
Fer  'z  I  wuz  settin'  in  the  bar  a-takin'  sunthin' 

hot, 

An'  feelin'  like  a  man  agin,  all  over  in  one  spot, 
A  feller  thet  sot  opposite,  arter  a  squint  at  me, 
Lep  up  an'  drawed  his  peacemaker,  an',  "  Dash 

it,  Sir,"  suz  he, 
"  I  'm  doubledashed  ef  you  ain't  him  thet  stole 

my  yaller  chettle, 
(You  're  all  the  stranger  thet 's  around,)  so  now 

you  've  gut  to  settle  ; 

It  ain't  no  use  to  argerfy  ner  try  to  cut  up  frisky, 
I  know  ye  ez  I  know  the  smell  of  ole  chain-light- 

nin'  whiskey  ; 
We  're  lor-abidin'  folks  down  here,  we  '11  fix  ye 

so  's  't  a  bar 
Would  n'  tech  ye  with  a  ten-foot  pole ;    (Jedge, 

you  jest  warm  the  tar ;) 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  Ill 

You  '11  think  you  'd  better  ha'  got  among  a  tribe 

'o  Mongrel  Tartars, 
'Fore  we  've    done    showin'    how   we    raise   our 

Southun  prize  tar-martyrs  ; 
A  moultin'  fallen  cherubim,  ef  he  should  see  ye, 

'd  snicker, 
Thinkin'  he  warn't  a  suckemstance.    Come,  genle- 

mun  le'  's  liquor  ; 
An'  Gin'ral,  when  you  've  mixed  the  drinks  an' 

chalked  'em  up,  tote  roun' 
An'  see  ef  ther'  's  a  feather-bed  (thet  's  borryable) 

in  town. 
We  '11  try  ye  fair,  ole  Grafted-leg,  an'  ef  the  tar 

wun't  stick, 
Th'  ain't  not  a  juror   here  but  wut  '11  'quit  ye 

doublequick." 
To  cut  it  short,  I  wun't  say  sweet,  they  gi'  me  a 

good  dip, 
(They  ain't  perfessin'  Bahptists  here,)  then  give 

the  bed  a  rip,  — 
The  jury  'd  sot,  an  quicker  'n  a  flash  they  hatched 

me  out,  a  livin' 
Extemp'ry  mammoth  turkey-chick  fer  a   Fejee 

Thanksgiven'. 
Thet  I  felt  some  stuck  up  is  wut  it  's   nat'ral  to 

suppose, 
When    poppylar   enthusiasm   hed   funnished  me 

sech  clo'es ; 
(Ner  't  ain't  without  edvantiges,  this  kin'  o'  suit, 

ye  see, 


112  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

It 's  water-proof,  an'  water  's  wut  I  like  kep'  out 

o'  me ;) 
But  nut  content  with  thet,  they  took  a  kerridge 

from  the  fence 
An'  rid  me  roun'  to  see  the  place,  entirely  free  'f 

expense, 
With  forty-'leven  new  kines  o'  sarse  without  no 

charge  acquainted  me, 
Gi'   me  three   cheers,  an'  vowed  thet  I  wuz  all 

their  fahncy  painted  me  ; 
They  treated  me  to  all  their  eggs ;  (they  keep 

'em  I  should  think, 
Fer  sech  ovations,  pooty  long,  for  they  wuz  mos' 

distinc' ;) 
They  starred  me  thick  'z  the  Milky- Way  with  in- 

discrim'nit  cherity, 
Fer  wut  we  call  reception  eggs  air  sunthin'  of  a 

rerity ; 
Green  ones   is    plentifle   anough,  skurce  wuth  a 

nigger's  getherin', 
But  your  dead-ripe  ones  ranges  high  fer  treatin' 

Nothun  bretherin  : 
A  spotteder,  ringstreakeder  child  the'  warn't  in 

Uncle  Sam's 
Holl  farm,  —  a  cross  of  striped  pig  an'  one  o' 

Jacob's  lambs ; 
'T  wuz  Dannil  in  the  lions'  den,  new  and  'nlarged 

edition, 
An'  everythin'  fust-rate  o'  'ts  kind,  the'  warn't  no 

impersition. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  113 

People  's  impulsiver  down  here  than  wut  our  folks 

to  home  be, 
An'  kin'  o'  go  it  'ith  a  resh  in  raisin'  Hail  Co- 

lumby : 
Thet  's  so :   an'  they  swarmed  out  like  bees,  for 

your  real  Southun  men's 
Time  is  n't  o'  much  more  account  than  an  ole 

settin'  hen's ; 
(They   jest  work  semioccashnally,  or  else  don't 

work  at  all, 
An'  so  their  time  an'  'tention  both  air  at  saci'ty's 

call.) 
Talk  about  hospatality  !  wut  Nothun  town  d'  ye 

know 
Would  take  a  totle   stranger  up  an'  treat  him 

gratis  so  ? 
You  'd  better   b'lieve   ther'  's  nothin'  like   this 

spendin'  days  an'  nights 
Along  'ith  a  dependent  race  fer  civerlizin'  whites. 

But  this  wuz  all  prelim'nary  ;  it's  so  Gran'  Jurors 

here 
Fin'  a  true  bill,  a  hendier  way  than  ourn,  an'  nut 

so  dear ; 
So  arter  this  they  sentenced  me,  to  make  all  tight 

'n'  snug, 
Afore  a  reg'lar  court  o'  law,  to  ten  years  in  the 

Jug. 
I  did  n'  make  no  gret  defence :  you  don't  feel 

much  like  speakin', 


114  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

When,  ef  you  let  your  clamshells  gape,  a  quart 

o'  tar  will  leak  in  : 
I  hev  hearn  tell  o'  winged  words,  but  pint  o'  fact 

it  tethers 
The  spoutin'  gift  to  hev  your  words  tu  thick  sot 

on  with  feathers, 
An'  Choate  ner  Webster  would  n't  ha'  made  an 

A  1  kin'  o'  speech 
Astride  a  Southun   chestnut  horse  sharper  'n  a 

baby's  screech. 
Two  year  ago  they  ketched  the  thief,  'n'  seein'  I 

wuz  innercent, 
They  jest  oncorked  an'  le'  me  run,  an'  in  my  stid 

the  sinner  sent 
To  see  how  he  liked  pork  'n'  pone  flavored  with 

wa'nut  saplin', 
An'  nary  social  priv'ledge  but  a  one-hoss,  starn- 

wheel  chaplin. 
When  I  come  out,  the  folks  behaved  mos'  gen'- 

manly  an'  harnsome ; 
They  'lowed  it  would  n't  be  more  'n  right,  ef  I 

should  cuss  'n'  darn  some  : 
The  Cunnle  he  apolergized ;  sez  he,   "  I  '11   du 

wut  's  right, 
I  '11  give  ye   settisfection  now  by  shootin'  ye  at 

sight, 
An'  give  the  nigger,  (when  he  's  caught,)  to  pay 

him  fer  his  trickin' 
In  gittin'  the  wrong  man  took  up,  a  most  H  fired 

lickin',  — 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  115 

It 's  jest  the  way  with  all  on  'em,  the  inconsistent 

critters, 
They  're  'most  enough  to  make  a  man  blaspheme 

his  mornin'  bitters  ; 
I  '11  be  your  frien'  thru  thick   an'  thin   an'  in   all 

kines  o'  weathers, 
An'  all  you  '11  hev  to  pay  fer  's  jest  the  waste  o' 

tar  an'  feathers : 
A  lady  owned  the  bed,  ye  see,  a  widder,  tu,  Miss 

Shennon ; 
It  wuz  her  mite ;  we  would  ha'  took  another,  ef 

ther'  'd  ben  one  : 
We  don't  make  no  charge  for  the  ride  an'  all  the 

other  fixins. 
Le'  's  liquor ;  Gin'ral,  you  can  chalk  our  friend 

for  all  the  mixins." 

A   meetin'  then  wuz   called,  where    they  "  RE 
SOLVED,  Thet  we  respec' 

B.  S.  Esquire  for  quallerties  o'  heart  an'  intellec' 
Peculiar  to  Columby's  sile,  an'  not   to   no    one 

else's, 
Thet  makes  European  tyrans  scringe  in  all  their 

gilded  pel'ces, 
An'  doos  gret  honor  to  our  race  an'  Southun  in- 

stitootions  :  " 
(I  give  ye  jest  the  substance  o'  the  leadin'  reso- 

lootions  :) 
"  RESOLVED,  Thet   we   revere   in   him   a   soger 

'thout  a  flor, 
A  martyr  to  the  princerples  o'  libbaty  an'  lor : 


116  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

RESOLVED,  Thet  other  nations  all,  ef  sot  'longside 

o'  us, 
For  vartoo,  larnin',  chivverlry,  ain't  noways  wuth 

a  cuss." 
They  gut  up  a  subscription,  tu,  but  no  gret  come 

o'  thet ; 
I  'xpect  in  cairin'  of  it  roun'  they  took  a  leaky 

hat; 
Though  Southun  genelmun  ain't  slow  at  puttin' 

down  their  name, 
(When  they  can  write,)  fer  in  the  eend  it  comes 

to  jes'  the  same, 
Because,  ye  see,  't  's  the  fashion  here  to  sign  an' 

not  to  think 
A  critter  'd  be  so  sordid  ez  to  ax  'em  for  the 

chink  : 
I  did  n't   call   but   jest    on   one,  an'  he   drawed 

toothpick  on  me, 
An'  reckoned  he  warn't  goin'  to  stan'  no  sech 

doggauned  econ'my ; 

So  nothin'  more  wuz  realized,  'ceptin'  the  good 
will  shown, 
Than  ef  't  had  ben  from   fust  to  last  a  reg'lar 

Cotton  Loan. 
It  's  a  good  way,  though,  come  to  think,  coz  ye 

enjy  the  sense 
O'  lendin'  lib'rally  to  the  Lord,  an'  nary  red  o' 

'xpense : 
Sence  then  I  got  my  name  up  for  a  gin'rous- 

hearted  man 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  117 

By  jes',  subscribin'  right  an'  left  on  this  high- 
minded  plan ; 

I  've  gin  away  my  thousans  so  to  every  Southun 
sort 

0'  missions,  colleges,  an'  sech,  ner  ain't  no  poorer 
for  't. 

I  warn't  so  bad  off,  arter  all ;  I  need  n't  hardly 
mention 

That  Guv'ment  owed  me  quite  a  pile  for  my  ar 
rears  o'  pension,  — 

I  mean  the  poor,  weak  thing  we  hed :  we  run  a 
new  one  now, 

Thet  strings  a  feller  with  a  claim  up  ta  the 
nighes'  bough. 

An'  prectises  the  rights  o'  man,  purtects  down 
trodden  debtors, 

Ner  wun't  hev  creditors  about  a-scrougin'  o'  their 
betters ; 

Jeff  's  gut  the  last  idees  ther'  is,  poscrip',  four 
teenth  edition, 

He  knows  it  takes  some  enterprise  to  run  an  op- 
persition  ; 

Ourn  's  the  fust  thru-by-daylight  tram,  with  all 
ou'doors  for  deepot, 

Yourn  goes  so  slow  you  'd  think  't  wuz  drawed 
by  a  las'  cent'ry  teapot ;  — 

Wai,  I  gut  all  on  't  paid  in  gold  afore  our  State 
seceded, 

An'  done  wal,  for  Confed'rit  bonds  warn't  jest 
the  cheese  T  needed : 


118  THE  £  I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

Nut  but  wut  they  're  ez  good  ez  gold,  but  then 

it 's  hard  a-breakin'  on  'em, 
An'  ignorant  folks  is  oilers  sot  an'  wun't  git  used 

to  takin'  on  'em; 
They  're  wuth  ez  much  ez  wut  they  wuz  afore  ole 

Mem'nger  signed  'em, 
An'  go  off  middlin'  wal  for  drinks,  when  ther'  's 

a  knife  behind  'em  ; 

We  du  miss  silver,  jes'  fer  thet  an'  ridin'  in  a  bus, 
Now  we  've  shook  off  the  desputs  thet  wuz  suck- 
in'  at  our  pus ; 
An'  it 's  because  the  South  's  so  rich ;  't  wuz  nat'- 

ral  to  expec' 
Supplies  o'  change  wuz  jes'  the  things  we  should 

n't  recollec' ; 
We  'd  ough'  to  ha'  thought  aforehan',  though,  o' 

thet  good  rule  o'  Crockett's, 
For  't 's  tiresome  cairin'  cotton-bales  an'  niggers 

in  your  pockets, 
Ner  't  ain't  quite  handy  to  pass  off  one  o'  your 

six-foot  Guineas 
An'  git  your  halves  an'  quarters  back  in  gals  an' 

pickaninnies : 
Wal,  't  ain't  quite  all  a  feller  'd  ax,  but  then 

ther'  's  this  to  say, 
It 's  on'y  jest  among  ourselves  thet  we  expec'  to 

pay; 

Our  system  would  ha'  caird  us  thru  in  any  Bible 

cent'ry, 
Fore  this  onscripterl  plan  come  up  o'  books  by 

double  entry ; 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  119 

We  go  the  patriarkle  here  out  o'  all   sight  an' 

hearin', 
For  Jacob  warn't  a  suckemstance  to  Jeff  at  finan- 

cierin' ; 
He  never  'd  thought  o'  borryin'  from  Esau  like 

all  nater 
An'  then  cornfiscatin'  all  debts  to  sech  a  small 

pertater ; 
There  's   p'litickle   econ'my,  now,  combined  'ith 

morril  beauty 
Thet  saycrifices  privit  eends  (your  in'my's,  tu) 

to  dooty ! 
Wy,  Jeff  'd  ha'  gin  him  five  an'  won  his  eye-teeth 

'fore  he  knowed  it, 
An',  stid  o'  wastin'  pottage,  he  'd  ha'  eat  it  up 

an'  owed  it. 
But  I  wuz  goin'  on  to  say  how  I  come  here  to 

dwall ;  — 
'Nough  said,  thet,  arter  lookin'  roun',  I  liked  the 

place  so  wal, 
Where  niggers  does  a  double  good,  with  us  atop 

to  stiddy  'em, 

By  bein'  proofs  o'  prophecy  an'  suckleatin'  me 
dium, 
Where    a   man 's    sunthin'   coz   he 's  white,   an' 

whiskey  's  cheap  ez  fleas, 

An'  the  financial  pollercy  jes'  sooted  my  idees, 
Thet  I  friz  down  right  where  I  wuz,  merried  the 

Widder  Shennon, 
(Her  thirds  wuz  part  in  cotton-land,  part  in  the 

curse  o'  Canaan,) 


120  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

An'  here  I  be  ez  lively  ez  a  chipmunk  on  a  wall, 
With  nothin'  to  feel   riled  about   much   later  'n 
Eddam's  faU. 

Ez  fur  ez  human  foresight  goes,  we   made  an 

even  trade : 

She  got  an  overseer,  an'  I  a  fem'ly  ready-made, 
(The  youngest  on  'em  's  'mos'  growed  up,)  rug 
ged  an'  spry  ez  weazles, 
So  's  't  ther'  's  no  resk   o'  doctors'  bills  fer  hoop- 

in'-cough  an'  measles. 
Our  farm  's  at  Turkey-Buzzard  Roost,  Little  Big 

Boosy  River, 
Wai  located  in  all  respex,  —  fer  't  ain't  the  chills 

'n'  fever 
Thet  makes  my  writin'  seem  to  squirm  ;  a  South- 

uner  'd  allow  I  'd 
Some  call  to  shake,  for  I  've  jest  hed  to  meller  a 

new  cowhide. 
Miss  S.  is  all  'f  a  lady ;  th'  ain't  no  better  on 

Big  Boosy, 
Ner  one  with  more  accomplishmunts  'twixt  here 

an'  Tuscaloosy; 
She  's  an  F.  F.,  the  tallest  kind,  an'  prouder  'n 

the  Gran'  Turk, 
An'  never  hed  a  relative  thet  done  a  stroke  o' 

work ; 
Hern  ain't  a  scrimpin'  fem'ly  sech  ez  you  git  up 

Down  East, 
Th'  ain't  a  growed  member  on  't  but  owes  his 

thousuns  et  the  least : 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  121 

She  is  some   old  ;   but  then  agin  ther'  's  draw 
backs  in  my  sheer : 
Wut  's  left  o'  me  ain't  more  'n  enough  to  make  a 

Brigadier : 
Wust  is,  thet  she  hez  tantrums  ;  she  's  like  Seth 

Moody's  gun 
(Him  thet  wuz  nicknamed  from  his  limp  Ole  Dot 

an'  Kerry  One)  ; 
He  'd  left  her  loaded  up  a  spell,  an'  hed  to  git 

her  clear, 
So  he  onhitched,  —  Jeerusalem  !    the  middle  o' 

last  year 
Wus   right   nex'   door   compared  to  where    she 

kicked  the  critter  tu 
(Though  jest  where  he  brought  up  wuz  wut  no 

human  never  knew)  ; 
His  brother  Asaph  picked  her  up  an'  tied  her  to 

a  tree, 
An'  then  she  kicked  an  hour  'n'  a  half  afore  she  'd 

let  it  be : 
Wai,  Miss  S.  doos  hev  cuttins-up  an'  pourins-out 

o'  vials, 
But  then  she  hez  her  widder's  thirds,  an'  all  on 

us  hez  trials. 

My  objec',  though,  in  writin'  now  warn't  to  al 
lude  to  sech, 
But  to  another  suckemstance  more  dellykit  to 

tech,  — 
I  want  thet  you  should  grad'lly  break  my  mer- 

riage  to  Jerushy, 


122  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

An'  there  's  a  heap  of  argymunts  thet  's  emple  to 

indooce  ye : 
Fust  place,    State's   Prison,  —  wal,   it 's  true  it 

warn't  fer  crime,  o'  course, 
But  then  it 's  jest  the  same  for  her  in  gittin'  a 

disvorce ; 
Nex'  place,  my  State's  secedin'  out  hez  leg'lly 

lef  me  free 
To    merry   any  one    I    please,  pervidin'   it  's    a 

she ; 
Fin'lly,  I  never  wun't  come  back,  she  need  n't 

hev  no  fear  on  't, 
But  then  it 's  wal  to  fix  things  right  fer  fear  Miss 

S.  should  hear  on  't ; 
Lastly,  I  've  gut  religion  South,  an'  Rushy  she  's 

a  pagan 
Thet  sets  by  th'  graven  imiges  o'  the  gret  Nothun 

Dagon ; 
(Now  I  hain't  seen  one  in  six  munts,  for,  sence 

our  Treashry  Loan, 
Though  yaller  boys  is  thick  anough,  eagles  hez 

kind  o'  flown ;) 
An'  ef  J.  wants  a  stronger  pint  than  them  thet  I 

hev  stated, 
Wy,  she  's  an  aliun  in'my  now,  an'  I  've  been 

cornfiscated,  — 
For  sence  we  Ve  entered  on  th'  estate  o'  the  late 

nayshnul  eagle, 
She  hain't  no  kin'  o'  right  but  jes'  wut  I  allow  ez 

legle : 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  123 

Wilt  doos  Secedin'  mean,  ef  't  ain't  thet  nat'rul 

rights  hez  riz,  'n' 
Thet  wut  is  mine  's  my  own,  but  wut  's  another 

man's  ain't  his'n  ? 

Besides,  I  could  n't  do  no  else ;  Miss  S.  suz  she 

to  me, 
"  You  've  sheered  my  bed,"  [thet 's  when  I  paid 

my  interduction  fee 
To  Southun  rites,]  "  an'  kep'  your  sheer,"  [wal, 

I  allow  it  sticked 
So  's  't  I  wuz  most  six  weeks  in  jail  afore  I  gut 

me  picked,] 
"  Ner  never  paid  no  demmiges  ;  but  thet  wun't 

do  no  harm, 
Pervidin'  thet  you  '11  ondertake  to  oversee  the 

farm ; 

(My  eldes'  boy  is  so  took  up,  wut  with  the  Ring 
tail  Rangers 
An'  settin'  in  the  Jestice-Court  for  welcomin'  o' 

strangers  ; ") 

[He  sot  on  me  ;]   "  an'  so,  ef  you  '11  jest  onder 
take  the  care 
Upon    a   mod'rit    sellery,  we    '11   up    an'  call   it 

square ; 
But  ef  you  can't  conclude,"  suz  she,  an'  give  a 

kin'  o'  grin, 
"  Wy,  the  Gran'  Jurymen,  I  'xpect,  '11  hev  to  set 

agin." 
Thet 's  the  way  metters  stood  at  fust ;  now  wut 

wuz  T  to  du. 


124  TEE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

But  jes'  to  make  the  best  on  't  an'  off  coat  an' 

buckle  tu  ? 
Ther'  ain't  a  livin'  man  thet  finds  an  income 

necessarier 
Than  me,  —  bimeby  I  '11  tell  ye  how  I  fin'lly 

come  to  merry  her. 

She   bed  another  motive,   tu :  I   mention  of   it 

here 
T'  encourage  lads  thet  's  growin'  up  to  study  'n' 

persevere, 
An'  show  'em  how  much  better  't  pays  to  mind 

their  winter-schoolin' 
Than  to  go  off  on  benders  'n'  sech,  an'  waste 

their  time  in  foolin' ; 
Ef  't  warn't  for  studyin'  evenins,  I  never  'd  ha' 

been  here 

An  orn'ment  o'  saciety,  in  my  approprut  spear  : 
She  wanted  somebody,  ye  see,  o'  taste  an'  culti 
vation, 
To  talk  along  o'  preachers  when  they  stopt  to  the 

plantation  ; 
For  folks  in  Dixie  th't  read  an'  rite,  onless  it  is 

by  jarks, 
Is  skurce  ez  wut  they  wuz  among  th'  oridgenle 

patriarchs ; 
To  fit  a  feller  f '  wut  they  call  the  soshle  higher- 

archy, 
All  thet  you've  gut  to  know  is  jes'  beyund  an 

evrage  darky ; 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  125 

Schoolin'  's  wut  they  can't  seem  to  stan',  they  're 

tu  consarned  high-pressure, 
An'  knowin'  t'  much  might  spile  a  boy  for  hein' 

a  Secesher. 
We  hain't  no  settled  preachin'  here,  ner  minis- 

teril  taxes ; 
The  min'ster's  only  settlement  's  the  carpet-bag 

he  packs  his 
Razor  an'  soap-brush  intu,  with  his  hymbook  an' 

his  Bible,  — 
But  they  du  preach,  I  swan  to  man,  it  's  puf'kly 

indescrib'le ! 

They  go  it  like  an  Ericsson's  ten-hoss-power  col- 
eric  ingine, 
An'  make   Ole   Split-Foot  winch  an'  squirm,  for 

all  he  's  used  to  singein' ; 
Hawkins's  whetstone  ain't  a  pinch  o'  primin'  to 

the  inards 
To  hearin'  on  'em  put  free  grace  t'  a  lot  o'  tough 

old  sinhards  ! 
But  I  must  eend  this  letter  now :  'fore  long  I  '11 

send  a  fresh  un ; 
I   've  lots   o'   things  to  write   about,  perticklerly 

Seceshun  : 
I  'm  called  off  now  to  mission-work,  to  let  a  leetle 

law  in 

To  Cynthy's  hide  :  an'  so,  till  death, 
Yourn, 

BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN. 


No.   II. 

MASON  AND   SLIDELL:  A  YANKEE 
IDYLL. 

TO    THE    EDITORS    OF    THE    ATLANTIC     MONTHLY. 

JAALAM,  6th  Jan.,  1862. 

GENTLEMEN,  —  I  was  highly  gratified  by 
the  insertion  of  a  portion  of  my  letter  in  the 
last  number  of  your  valuable  and  entertain 
ing  Miscellany,  though  in  a  type  which  ren 
dered  its  substance  inaccessible  even  to  the 
beautiful  new  spectacles  presented  to  me  by 
a  Committee  of  the  Parish  on  New- Year's 
Day.  I  trust  that  I  was  able  to  bear  your 
very  considerable  abridgment  of  my  lucubra 
tions  with  a  spirit  becoming  a  Christian. 
My  third  granddaughter,  Rebekah,  aged 
fourteen  years,  and  whom  I  have  trained  to 
read  slowly  and  with  proper  emphasis  (a 
practice  too  much  neglected  in  our  modern 
systems  of  education),  read  aloud  to  me  the 
excellent  essay  upon  "  Old  Age,"  the  author 
of  which  I  cannot  help  suspecting  to  be  a 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  127 

young  man  who  has  never  yet  known  what 
it  was  to  have  snow  (canities  morosa)  upon 
his  own  roof.  Dissolve  frigus,  large  super 
foco  ligna  reponens^  is  a  rule  for  the  young, 
whose  wood-pile  is  yet  abundant  for  such 
cheerful  lenitives.  A  good  life  behind  him 
is  the  best  thing  to  keep  an  old  man's  shoul 
ders  from  shivering  at  every  breath  of  sor 
row  or  ill-fortune.  But  ruethinks  it  were 
easier  for  an  old  man  to  feel  the  disadvan 
tages  of  youth  than  the  advantages  of  age. 
Of  these  latter  I  reckon  one  of  the  chief- 
est  to  be  this  :  that  we  attach  a  less  inor 
dinate  value  to  our  own  productions,  and, 
distrusting  daily  more  and  more  our  own 
wisdom  (with  the  conceit  whereof  at  twen 
ty  we  wrap  ourselves  away  from  knowl 
edge  as  with  a  garment),  do  reconcile  our 
selves  with  the  wisdom  of  God.  I  could 
have  wished,  indeed,  that  room  might  have 
been  made  for  the  residue  of  the  anecdote 
relating  to  Deacon  Tinkham,  which  would 
not  only  have  gratified  a  natural  curiosity 
on  the  part  of  the  public  (as  I  have  reason 
to  know  from  several  letters  of  inquiry  al 
ready  received),  but  would  also,  as  I  think, 
have  largely  increased  the  circulation  of 
your  magazine  in  this  town.  Nihil  humani 


128  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

alienum,  there  is  a  curiosity  about  the  af 
fairs  of  our  neighbors  which  is  not  only  par 
donable,  but  even  commendable.  But  I 
shall  abide  a  more  fitting  season. 

As  touching  the  following  literary  effort 
of  Esquire  Biglow,  much  might  be  profitably 
said  on  the  topic  of  Idyllic  and  Pastoral 
Poetry,  and  concerning  the  proper  distinc 
tions  to  be  made  between  them,  from  The 
ocritus,  the  inventor  of  the  former,  to  Collins, 
the  latest  author  I  know  of  who  has  emulated 
the  classics  in  the  latter  style.  But  in  the 
time  of  a  Civil  War  worthy  a  Milton  to  de 
fend  and  a  Lucan  to  sing,  it  may  be  reason 
ably  doubted  whether  the  public,  never  too 
studious  of  serious  instruction,  might  not 
consider  other  objects  more  deserving  of 
present  attention.  Concerning  the  Idyll, 
which  Mr.  Biglow  has  adopted  at  my  sug 
gestion,  it  may  not  be  improper  to  animad 
vert,  that  the  name  properly  signifies  a  poem 
somewhat  rustic  in  phrase  (for,  though  the 
learned  are  not  agreed  as  to  the  particular 
dialect  employed  by  Theocritus,  they  are  uni- 
versanimous  both  as  to  its  rusticity  and  its 
capacity  of  rising  now  and  then  to  the  level 
of  more  elevated  sentiments  and  expressions), 
while  it  is  also  descriptive  of  real  scenery 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  129 

and  manners.  Yet  it  must  be  admitted  that 
the  production  now  in  question  (which  here 
and  there  hears  perhaps  too  plainly  the  marks 
of  my  correcting  hand)  does  partake  of  the 
nature  of  a  Pastoral,  inasmuch  as  the  interlo 
cutors  therein  are  purely  imaginary  beings, 
and  the  whole  is  little  better  than  KO.TTVOV  a/aSs 
ovap.  The  plot  was,  as  I  believe,  suggested 
by  the  "  Twa  Brigs  "  of  Robert  Burns,  a  Scot 
tish  poet  of  the  last  century,  as  that  found 
its  prototype  in  the  "  Mutual  Complaint  of 
Plainstanes  and  Causey "  by  Fergusson, 
though  the  metre  of  this  latter  be  different 
by  a  foot  in  each  verse.  I  reminded  my 
talented  young  parishioner  and  friend  that 
Concord  Bridge  had  long  since  yielded  to 
the  edacious  tooth  of  Time.  But  he  an 
swered  me  to  this  effect:  that  there  was  no 
greater  mistake  of  an  author  than  to  sup 
pose  the  reader  had  no  fancy  of  his  own ; 
that,  if  once  that  faculty  was  to  be  called 
into  activity,  it  were  better  to  be  in  for  the 
whole  sheep  than  the  shoulder ;  and  that  he 
knew  Concord  like  a  book,  —  an  expression 
questionable  in  propriety,  since  there  are 
few  things  with  which  he  is  not  more  famil 
iar  than  with  the  printed  page.  In  proof  of 
what  he  affirmed,  he  showed  me  some  verses 


130  THE  BLGLOW  PAPERS. 

which  with  others  he  had  stricken  out  as  too 
much  delaying  the  action,  but  which  I  com 
municate  in  this  place  because  they  rightly 
define  "  punkin-seed  "  (which  Mr.  Bartlett 
would  have  a  kind  of  perch,  —  a  creature  to 
which  I  have  found  a  rod  or  pole  not  to  be 
so  easily  equivalent  in  our  inland  waters  as 
in  the  books  of  arithmetic),  and  because  it 
conveys  an  eulogium  on  the  worthy  son  of 
an  excellent  father,  with  whose  acquaintance 
(eheu  Jug  aces  anni  /)  I  was  formerly  hon 
ored. 

"But  nowadays  the  Bridge  ain't  wut  they  show, 
So  much  ez  Em'son,  Hawthorne,  an'  Thoreau. 
I  know  the  village,  though  ;  was  sent  there  once 
A-schoolin',  'cause  to  home  I  played  the  dunce  ; 
An'  I  've  ben  sence  a-visitin'  the  Jedge, 
Whose  garding  whispers  with  the  river's  edge, 
Where  I  've  sot  mornin's  lazy  as  the  bream, 
Whose  on'}'  business  is  to  head  up-stream, 
(We  call  'em  punkin-seed,)  or  else  in  chat 
Along  'th  the  Jedge,  who  covers  with  his  hat 
More  wit  an'  gumption  an'  shrewd  Yankee  sense 
Than  there  is  mosses  on  an  ole  stone  fence." 

Concerning  the  subject  -  matter  of  the 
verses,  I  have  not  the  leisure  at  present  to 
write  so  fully  as  I  could  wish,  my  time  be 
ing  occupied  with  the  preparation  of  a  dis 
course  for  the  forthcoming  bi-centenary  cel 
ebration  of  the  first  settlement  of  Jaalam 


THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS.  131 

East  Parish.  It  may  gratify  the  public  in 
terest  to  mention  the  circumstance,  that  my 
investigations  to  this  end  have  enabled  me 
to  verify  the  fact  (of  much  historic  im 
portance,  and  hitherto  hotly  debated)  that 
Shearjashub  Tarbox  was  the  first  child  of 
white  parentage  born  in  this  town,  being 
named  in  his  father's  will  under  date  Au 
gust  7th,  or  9th,  1G62.  It  is  well  known  that 
those  who  advocate  the  claims  of  Mehetable 
Goings  are  unable  to  find  any  trace  of  her 
existence  prior  to  October  of  that  year.  As 
respects  the  settlement  of  the  Mason  and 
Slidell  question,  Mr.  Biglow  has  not  incor 
rectly  stated  the  popular  sentiment,  so  far 
as  I  can  judge  by  its  expression  in  this  local 
ity.  For  myself,  I  feel  more  sorrow  than 
resentment ;  for  I  am  old  enough  to  have 
heard  those  talk  of  England  who  still,  even 
after  the  unhappy  estrangement,  could  not 
unschool  their  lips  from  calling  her  the 
Mother-country.  But  England  has  insisted 
on  ripping  up  old  wounds,  and  has  undone 
the  healing  work  of  fifty  years ;  for  nations 
do  not  reason,  they  only  feel,  and  the  spretce 
injuria  formes  rankles  in  their  minds  as  bit 
terly  as  in  that  of  a  woman.  And  because 
this  is  so,  I  feel  the  more  satisfaction  that 


132  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

our  government  has  acted  (as  all  Govern 
ments  should,  standing  as  they  do  between 
the  people  and  their  passions)  as  if  it  had 
arrived  at  years  of  discretion.  There  are 
three  short  and  simple  words,  the  hardest  of 
all  to  pronounce  in  any  language  (and  I  sus 
pect  they  were  no  easier  before  the  confusion 
of  tongues),  but  which  no  man  or  nation 
that  cannot  utter  can  claim  to  have  arrived 
at  manhood.  Those  words  are,  /  was 
tvrong ;  and  I  am  proud  that,  while  Eng 
land  played  the  boy,  our  rulers  had  strength 
enough  from  the  People  below  and  wisdom 
enough  from  God  above  to  quit  themselves 
like  men. 

The  sore  points  on  both  sides  have  been 
skilfully  exasperated  by  interested  and  un 
scrupulous  persons,  who  saw  in  a  war  be 
tween  the  two  countries  the  only  hope  of 
profitable  return  for  their  investment  in 
Confederate  stock,  whether  political  or  finan 
cial.  The  always  supercilious,  often  insult 
ing,  and  sometimes  even  brutal  tone  of  Brit 
ish  journals  and  public  men  has  certainly 
not  tended  to  soothe  whatever  resentment 
might  exist  in  America. 

"Perhaps  it  was  right  to  dissemble  your  love, 
But  why  did  vou  kick  me  down  stairs  V  " 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  133 

We  have  no  reason  to  complain  that  Eng 
land,  as  a  necessary  consequence  of  her  clubs, 
has  become  a  great  society  for  the  minding 
of  other  people's  business,  and  we  can  smile 
good-naturedly  when  she  lectures  other  na 
tions  on  the  sins  of  arrogance  and  conceit ; 
but  we  may  justly  consider  it  a  breach  of  tlie 
political  convenances  which  are  expected  to 
regulate  the  intercourse  of  one  well-bred 
government  with  another,  when  men  holding 
places  in  the  ministry  allow  themselves  to  dic 
tate  our  domestic  policy,  to  instruct  us  in  our 
duty,  and  to  stigmatize  as  unholy  a  war  for 
the  rescue  of  whatever  a  high-minded  people 
should  hold  most  vital  and  most  sacred. 
Was  it  in  good  taste,  that  I  may  use  the 
mildest  term,  for  Earl  Russell  to  expound 
our  own  Constitution  to  President  Lincoln, 
or  to  make  a  new  and  fallacious  application 
of  an  old  phrase  for  our  benefit,  and  tell  us 
that  the  Kebels  were  fighting  for  indepen 
dence  and  we  for  empire?  As  if  all  wars 
for  independence  were  by  nature  just  and 
deserving  of  sympathy,  and  all  wars  for  em 
pire  ignoble  and  worthy  only  of  reprobation, 
or  as  if  these  easy  phrases  in  any  way  char 
acterized  this  terrible  struggle  —  terrible 
not  so  truly  in  any  superficial  sense,  as  from 


134  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

the  essential  and  deadly  enmity  of  the  prin 
ciples  that  underlie  it.  His  Lordship's  bit 
of  borrowed  rhetoric  would  justify  Smith 
O'Brien,  Nana  Sahib,  and  the  Maoi'i  chief 
tains,  while  it  would  condemn  nearly  every 
war  in  which  England  has  ever  been  en 
gaged.  Was  it  so  very  presumptuous  in  vis 
to  think  that  it  would  be  decorous  in  Eng 
lish  statesmen  if  they  spared  time  enough  to 
acquire  some  kind  of  knowledge,  though  of 
the  most  elementary  kind,  in  regard  to  this 
country  and  the  questions  at  issue  here,  be 
fore  they  pronounced  so  off-hand  a  judg 
ment  ?  Or  is  political  information  expected 
to  come  Dogberry-fashion  in  England,  like 
reading  and  writing,  by  nature  ? 

And  now  all  respectable  England  is  won 
dering  at  our  irritability,  and  sees  a  quite 
satisfactory  explanation  of  it  in  our  national 
vanity.  Suave  mari  magno,  it  is  pleasant, 
sitting  in  the  easy -chairs  of  Downing  Street, 
to  sprinkle  pepper  on  the  raw  wounds  of  a 
kindred  people  struggling  for  life,  and  phil 
osophical  to  find  in  self-conceit  the  cause  of 
our  instinctive  resentment.  Surely  we  were 
of  all  nations  the  least  liable  to  any  tempta 
tion  of  vanity  at  a  time  when  the  gravest 
anxiety  and  the  keenest  sorrow  were  never 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  135 

absent  from  our  hearts.  Nor  is  conceit  the 
exclusive  attribute  of  any  one  nation.  The 
earliest  of  English  travellers,  Sir  John  Maii- 
deville,  took  a  less  provincial  view  of  the 
matter  when  he  said,  "  For  fro  what  partie 
of  the  erthe  that  men  duellen,  other  aboven 
or  beneathen,  it  sernethe  alweys  to  hem  that 
duellen  that  thei  gon  more  righte  than  any 
other  folke."  The  English  have  always  had 
their  fair  share  of  this  amiable  quality.  We 
may  say  of  them  still,  as  the  author  of  the 
Lettres  Cabalistiques  said  of  them  more 
than  a  century  ago,  "  Ces  derniers  disent 
naturellcment  qu'il  iiy  a  qiCaux  qui  soient 
estimable*."  And,  as  he  also  says,  "  J'aime- 
rois  presque  autant  tomber  entre  les  mains 
d"un  Inquisiteur  que  a"un  Anglois  qui  me 
fait  sentir  sans  cesse  combien  il  s'estimeplus 
que  moi,  et  qui  ne  daigne  me  parler  que  pour 
injurier  ma  Nation  et  pour  rnennuyer  du  re- 
cit  des  f/randes  qualitSs  de  la  sienne"  Of 
this  Bull  we  may  safely  say  with  Horace, 
habetfcenum  in  cornu.  What  we  felt  to  be 
especially  insulting  was  the  quiet  assumption 
that  the  descendants  of  men  who  left  the 
Old  World  for  the  sake  of  principle,  and 
who  had  made  the  wilderness  into  a  New 
World  patterned  after  an  Idea,  could  not 


136  THE   BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

possibly  be  susceptible  of  a  generous  or  lofty 
sentiment,  could  have  no  feeling  of  nation 
ality  deeper  than  that  of  a  tradesman  for  his 
shop.  One  would  have  thought,  in  listening 
to  England,  that  we  were  presumptuous  in 
fancying  that  we  were  a  nation  at  all,  or 
had  any  other  principle  of  union  than  that 
of  booths  at  a  fair,  where  there  is  no  higher 
notion  of  government  than  the  constable,  or 
better  image  of  God  than  that  stamped  upon 
the  current  coin. 

It  is  time  for  Englishmen  to  consider 
whether  there  was  nothing  in  the  spirit  of 
their  press  and  of  their  leading  public  men 
calculated  to  rouse  a  just  indignation,  and 
to  cause  a  permanent  estrangement  on  the 
part  of  any  nation  capable  of  self-respect, 
and  sensitively  jealous,  as  ours  then  was,  of 
foreign  interference.  Was  there  nothing  in 
the  indecent  haste  with  which  belligerent 
rights  were  conceded  to  the  Rebels,  nothing 
in  the  abrupt  tone  assumed  in  the  Trent 
case,  nothing  in  the  fitting  out  of  Confeder 
ate  privateers,  that  might  stir  the  blood  of 
a  people  already  overcharged  with  doubt, 
suspicion,  and  terrible  responsibility?  The 
laity  in  any  country  do  not  stop  to  consider 
points  of  law,  but  they  have  an  instinctive 


THE    El  GLOW  PAPERS.  137 

appreciation  of  the  animus  that  actuates  the 
policy  of  a  foreign  nation  ;  and  in  our  own 
case  they  remembered  that  the  British  au 
thorities  in  Canada  did  not  wait  till  diplo 
macy  could  send  Lome  to  England  for  her 
slow  official  tinder-box  to  fire  the  "  Caro 
line."  Add  to  this,  what  every  sensible 
American  knew,  that  the  moral  support  of 
England  was  equal  to  an  army  of  two  hun 
dred  thousand  men  to  the  Rebels,  while  it 
insured  us  another  year  or  two  of  exhausting 
war.  It  was  not  so  much  the  spite  of  her 
words  (though  the  time  might  have  been 
more  tastefully  chosen)  as  the  actual  power 
for  evil  in  them  that  we  felt  as  a  deadly 
wrong.  Perhaps  the  most  immediate  and 
efficient  cause  of  mere  irritation  was  the 
sudden  and  unaccountable  change  of  man 
ner  on  the  other  side  of  the  water.  Only 
six  months  before,  the  Prince  of  Wales  had 
come  over  to  call  us  cousins  ;  and  every 
where  it  was  nothing  but  "  our  American 
brethren,"  that  great  offshoot  of  British 
institutions  in  the  New  World,  so  almost 
identical  with  them  in  laws,  language,  and 
literature,  —  this  last  of  the  alliterative  com 
pliments  being  so  bitterly  true,  that  perhaps 
it  will  not  be  retracted  even  now.  To  this 


138  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

outburst  of  long-repressed  affection  we  re 
sponded  with  genuine  warmth,  if  with  some 
thing  of  the  awkwardness  of  a  poor  relation 
bewildered  with  the  sudden  tightening  of 
the  ties  of  consanguinity  when  it  is  rumored 
that  he  has  come  into  a  large  estate.  Then 
carne  the  Rebellion,  and,  pretsto  !  a  flaw  in 
our  titles  was  discovered,  the  plate  we  were 
promised  at  the  family  table  Is  flung  at  our 
head,  and  we  were  again  the  scum  of  crea 
tion,  intolerably  vulgar,  at  once  cowardly 
and  overbearing,  —  no  relations  of  theirs, 
after  alL  but  a  dreggy  hybrid  of  the  basest 
bloods  of  Europe.  Panurge  was  not  quicker 
to  call  Friar  John  his  former  friend.  I  can 
not  help  thinking  of  AV alter  Mapes's  jingling 
paraphrase  of  Petronius. — 

"Dammodo  mm  fpJendidw  vest 5  bos  omatas, 
Kt  malt*  familia  -uu  circumvallatu>. 
Prudent  com  et  tapien:  et  morigeratu*, 
Et  tuu«  nep»s  ram  et  ta  me%n  co^natos."  — 

which  I  may  freely  render  thus :  — 

So  long  a*  I  wa*  prwperou*.  I  'd  dinners  by  the  dozen, 
Wa*  well-bred,  witty,  virtuoa*,  and  everytxxly'*  cou«in: 
If  lock  (bottld  torn,  an  well  ishe  may,  her  fancy  w  w»  flexile, 
Will  virtue,  eoa»ia*hip,  and  ail  return  with  ber  from  exile  ? 

"Jhere  was  nothing  in  all  this  to  exasper 
ate  a  philosopher,  much  to  make  him  smile 
rather ;  but  the  earth's  surface  Is  not  chiefly 


THE  BIGLOW  PATERS.  139 

inliabitod  by  philosophers,  and  I  revive  the 
recollection  of  it  now  in  perfect  good  humor, 
merely  by  way  of  suggesting  to  our  d-devattt 
British  cousins,  that  it  would  have  been 
easier  for  them  to  hold  their  tongues  than 
for  us  to  keep  our  tempers  under  the  circum 
stances. 

The  English  Cabinet  made  a  blunder, 
unquestionably,  in  taking  it  so  hastily  for 
granted  that  the  United  States  had  fallen 
forever  from  their  position  as  a  tirst-rate 
power,  and  it  was  natural  that  they  should 
vent  a  little  of  their  vexation  upon  the  peo 
ple  whose  inexplicable  obstinacy  in  maintain 
ing  freedom  and  order,  and  in  resisting  deg 
radation,  was  likely  to  convict  them  of  their 
mistake.  But  if  bearing  a  grudge  be  the 
sure  mark  of  a  small  mind  in  the  individual, 
can  it  be  a  proof  of  high  spirit  in  a  nation  ? 
If  the  result  of  the  present  estrangement  be 
tween  the  two  countries  shall  be  to  make  us 
more  independent  of  British  twaddle,  (-/;?- 
(tomito  ncc  dira  ferens  stipcndia  Tauro^) 
so  much  the  better ;  but  if  it  is  to  make  us 
insensible  to  the  value  of  British  opinion,  in 
matters  where  it  srives  us  the  judgment  of  an 

O  •!  C? 

impartial  and  cultivated  outsider,  if  we  are 
to  shut  ourselves  out  from  the  advantages  of 


140  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

English  culture,  the  loss  will  be  ours,  and  not 
theirs.  Because  the  door  of  the  old  home 
stead  has  been  once  slammed  in  our  faces, 
shall  we  in  a  huff  reject  all  future  advances 
of  conciliation,  and  cut  ourselves  foolishly 
off  from  any  share  in  the  humanizing  influ 
ences  of  the  place,  with  its  ineffable  riches 
of  association,  its  heirlooms  of  immemorial 
culture,  its  historic  monuments,  ours  no  less 
than  theirs,  its  noble  gallery  of  ancestral 
portraits?  We  have  only  to  succeed,  and 
England  will  not  only  respect,  but,  for  the 
first  time,  begin  to  understand  us.  And  let 
us  not,  in  our  justifiable  indignation  at  wan 
ton  insult,  forget  that  England  is  not  the 
England  only  of  snobs  who  dread  the  de 
mocracy  they  do  not  comprehend,  but  the 
England  of  history,  of  heroes,  statesmen, 
and  poets,  whose  names  are  dear,  and  their 
influence  as  salutary  to  us  as  to  her. 

Let  us  strengthen  the  hands  of  those  in 
authority  over  us,  and  curb  our  own  tongues, 
remembering  that  General  Wait  commonly 
proves  in  the  end  more  than  a  match  for 
General  Headlong,  and  that  the  Good  Book 
ascribes  safety  to  a  multitude,  indeed,  but  not 
to  a  mob,  of  counsellors.  Let  us  remember 
and  perpend  the  words  of  Paulus  Emilius 


THE   BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  141 

to  the'  people  of  Rome ;  tliat,  "  if  they 
judged  they  could  manage  the  war  to  more 
advantage  by  any  other,  he  would  willingly 
yield  up  his  charge ;  but  if  they  confided  in 
him,  they  were  not  to  make  themselves  his 
colleagues  in  his  office,  or  raise  reports,  or 
criticise  his  actions,  but,  without  talking, 
supply  him  with  means  and  assistance  neces 
sary  to  the  carrying  on  of  the  war  ;  for,  if 
they  proposed  to  command  their  own  com 
mander,  they  would  render  this  expedition 
more  ridiculous  than  the  former."  (  Vide 
Plutarchum  in  Vitd  P.  E^)  Let  us  also 
not  forget  what  the  same  excellent  author 
says  concerning  Perseus's  fear  of  spending 
money,  and  not  permit  the  covetousness  of 
Brother  Jonathan  to  be  the  good-fortune  of 
Jefferson  Davis.  For  my  own  part,  till  I 
am  ready  to  admit  the  Commander-in-Chief 
to  my  pulpit,  I  shall  abstain  from  planning 
his  battles.  If  courage  be  the  sword,  yet  is 
patience  the  armor  of  a  nation  ;  and  in  our 
desire  for  peace,  let  us  never  be  willing  to 
surrender  the  Constitution  bequeathed  us  by 
fathers  at  least  as  wise  as  ourselves  (even 
with  Jefferson  Davis  to  help  us),  and,  with 
those  degenerate  Komans,  tufa  ct  prcscntia 
quaiii  vctcra  et  perlculosa  malle. 


142  THE   B1GLOW  PAPERS. 

And  not  only  should  we  bridle  our  own 
tongues,  but  the  pens  of  others,  which  are 
swift  to  convey  useful  intelligence  to  the 
enemy.  This  is  no  new  inconvenience  ;  for, 
under  date  3d  June,  1745,  General  Pepperell 
wrote  thus  to  Governor  Shirley  from  Louis- 
bourg  :  "  What  your  Excellency  observes  of 
the  army^s  being  made  acquainted  with  any 
plans  proposed,  until  ready  to  be  put  in  exe 
cution,  has  always  been  disagreeable  to  me, 
and  I  have  given  many  cautions  relating  to 
it.  But  when  your  Excellency  considers 
that  our  Council  of  War  consists  of  more 
than  twenty  members,  I  am  persuaded  you 
will  think  it  impossible  for  me  to  hinder  it, 
if  any  of  them  will  persist  in  communicating 
to  inferior  officers  and  soldiers  what  ought 
to  be  kept  secret.  I  am  informed  that  the 
Boston  newspapers  are  filled  with  paragraphs 
from  private  letters  relating  to  the  expedi 
tion.  Will  your  Excellency  permit  me  to 
say  I  think  it  may  be  of  ill  consequence  ? 
W^ould  it  not  be  convenient,  if  your  Excel 
lency  should  forbid  the  Printers'  inserting 
such  news  ?  "  Verily,  if  tempora  mutantur, 
we  may  question  the  et  nos  mutamur  in 
illis ;  and  if  tongues  be  leaky,  it  will  need 
all  hands  at  the  pumps  to  save  the  Ship  of 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  143 

State.  Our  history  dotes  and  repeats  itself. 
If  Sassycus  (rather  than  Alcibiades)  find  a 
parallel  in  Beauregard,  so  Weakwash,  as 
he  is  called  by  the  brave  Lieutenant  Lion 
Gardiner,  need  not  seek  far  among  our  own 
Sachems  for  his  antitype. 
With  respect, 

Your  ob*  humble  servfc, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.  M. 


I  LOVE  to  start  out  arter  night 's  begun, 
An'  all  the  chores  about  the  farm  are  done, 
The  critters  milked  an'  foddered,  gates  shet  fast, 
Tools  cleaned  aginst  to-morrer,  supper  past, 
An'  Nancy  darnin'  by  her  ker'sene  lamp,  — 
I  love,  I  say,  to  start  upon  a  tramp, 
To  shake  the  kinkles  out  o'  back  an'  legs, 
An'  kind  o'  rack  my  life  off  from  the  dregs 
Thet  's  apt  to  settle  in  the  buttery-hutch 
Of  folks  thet  f oiler  in  one  rut  too  much : 
Hard  work  is  good  an'  wholesome,  past  all  doubt ; 
But 't  ain't  so,  ef  the  mind  gits  tuckered  out. 
Now,  bein'  born  in  Middlesex,  you  know, 
There  's  certin  spots  where  I  like  best  to  go : 
The  Concord  road,  for  instance,  (I,  for  one, 
Most  gin'lly  oilers  call  it  John  Bull's  Run,) 
The  field  o'  Lexin'ton,  where  England  tried 
The  fastest  colors  thet  she  ever  dyed, 


144  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

An'  Concord  Bridge,  thet  Davis,  when  lie  came, 
Found  was  the  bee-line  track  to  heaven  an'  fame, 
Ez  all  roads  be  by  natur',  ef  your  soul 
Don't  sneak  thru  shun-pikes  so  's  to  save  the  toll. 

They  're  'most  too  fur  away,  take  too  much  time 

To  visit  of 'en,  ef  it  ain't  in  rhyme ; 

But  the'  's  a  walk  thet 's  hendier,  a  sight, 

An'  suits  me  fust-rate  of  a  winter's  night,  — 

I  mean  the  round  whale's-back  o'  Prospect  Hill. 

I  love  to  1'iter  there  while  night  grows  still, 

An'  in  the  twinklin'  villages  about, 

Fust  here,  then  there,  the  well-saved  lights  goes 

out, 

An'  nary  sound  but  watch-dogs'  false  alarms, 
Or  muffled  cock-crows  from  the  drowsy  farms, 
Where  some  wise  rooster  (men  act  jest  thet  way) 
Stands  to  't  thet  moon-rise  is  the  break  o'  day : 
(So  Mister  Seward  sticks  a  three-months  pin 
Where  the  war  'd  oughto  eend,  then  tries  agin ; 
My  gran'ther's  rule  was  safer  'n  't  is  to  crow : 
Dorit  never  prophesy,  —  onless  ye  know.) 
I  love  to  muse  there  till  it  kind  o'  seems 
Ez  ef  the  world  went  eddy  in'  off  in  dreams ; 
The  Northwest  wind  thet  twitches  at  my  baird 
Blows  out  o'  sturdier  days  not  easy  scared, 
An'  the  same  moon  thet  this  December  shines 
Starts  out  the  tents  an'  booths  o'  Putnam's  lines ; 
The  rail-fence  posts,  acrost  the  hill  thet  runs, 
Turn  ghosts  o'  sogers  should'rin'  ghosts  o'  guns ; 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  145 

Ez  wheels  the  sentry,  glints  a  flash  o'  light 
Along  the  firelock  won  at  Concord  Fight, 
An'  'twixt  the  silences,  now  fur,  now  nigh, 
Rings  the  sharp  chellenge,  hums  the  low  reply. 

Ez  I  was  settin'  so,  it  warn't  long  sence, 
Mixin'  the  puffict  with  the  present  tense, 
I  heerd  two  voices  som'ers  in  the  air, 
Though,  ef  I  was  to  die,  I  can't  tell  where : 
Voices  I  call  'em :  't  was  a  kind  o'  sough 
Like  pine-trees  thet  the  wind 's  ageth'rin'  through ; 
An',  fact,  I  thought  it  was  the  wind  a  spell, 
Then  some  misdoubted,  could  n't  fairly  tell, 
Fust  sure,  then  not,  jest  as  you  hold  an  eel, 
I  knowed,  an'  did  n't,  —  fin'lly  seemed  to  feel 
'T  was  Concord  Bridge  a-talkin'  off  to  kill 
With  the  Stone  Spike  thet 's  druv  thru  Bunker 

Hill: 

Whether  't  was  so,  or  ef  I  on'y  dreamed, 
I  could  n't  say ;  I  tell  it  ez  it  seemed. 

THE    BRIDGE. 

Wai,  neighbor,  tell  us,  wut  's  turned  up  thet 's 

new  ? 

You  're  younger  'n  I  be,  —  nigher  Boston,  tu : 
An'  down  to  Boston,  ef  you  take  their  showin', 
Wut  they  don't  know  ain't  hardly  wuth  the  know- 
in'. 

There  's  sunthin'  goin'  on,  I  know :  las'  night 
The  British  sogers  killed  in  our  gret  fight 


146  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

(Nigh  fifty  year  they  hed  n't  stirred  nor  spoke) 
Made  sech  a  coil  you  'd  thought  a  dam  hed  broke : 
Why,  one  he  up  an'  heat  a  revellee 
With  his  own  crossbones  on  a  holler  tree, 
Till  all  the  graveyards  swarmed  out  like  a  hive 
With  faces  I  hain't  seen  sence  Seventy-five. 
Wut  is  the  news  ?     'T  ain't  good,  or  they  'd  be 

cheerin'. 

Speak  slow  an'  clear,  for  I  'm  some  hard  o'  hear- 
in'. 

THE   MONIMEXT. 

I  don't  know  hardly  ef  it 's  good  or  bad,  — 

THE  BRIDGE. 

At  wust,  it  can't  be  wus  than  wut  we  've  had. 

THE  MONIMENT. 

You  know  them  envys  thet  the  Rebbles  sent, 
An'  Cap'n  Wilkes  he  borried  o'  the  Trent  ? 

THE  BRIDGE. 

Wut !  they  ha'n't  hanged  'em  ?     Then  their  wits 

is  gone ! 
Thet 's  the  sure  way  to  make  a  goose  a  swan ! 

THE   MONIMEXT. 

No :   England   she   would   hev  'em,   Fee,  Faw, 

Finn  ! 

(Ez  though  she  hed  n't  fools  enough  to  home,) 
So  they  've  returned  'em  — 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  147 

THE   BRIDGE. 

Hev  they  ?     Wai,  by  heaven, 
Thet  's  the  wust  news  I  've  heerd  sence  Seventy- 
seven  ! 

By  Georye,  I  meant  to  say,  though  I  declare 
It 's  'most  enough  to  make  a  deacon  swear. 

THE   MOMMEJfT. 

Now  don't  go  off  half-cock :  folks  never  gains 
By  usin'  pepper-sarse  instid  o'  brains. 
Come,  neighbor,  you  don't  understand  — 

I  Hi:    BRIDGE. 

How?  Hey? 

Not  understand  ?     Why,  wut  's  to  hender,  pray  ? 
Must  I  go  huntin'  round  to  find  a  chap 
To  tell  me  when  my  face  hez  hed  a  slap  ? 

THE  MONIMENT. 

See  here :   the  British  they  found  out  a  flaw 

In  Cap'n  Wilkes's  readin'  o'  the  law : 

(They  make  all  laws,  you  know,  an'  so,  o'  course, 

It 's  nateral  they  should  understan'  their  force  :) 

He  'd  oughto  took  the  vessel  into  port, 

An'  hed  her  sot  on  by  a  reg'lar  court ; 

She  was  a  mail-ship,  an'  a  steamer,  tu, 

An'  thet,  they  say,  hez  changed  the  point  o'  view, 

Coz  the  old  practice,  bein'  meant  for  sails,    . 

Ef  tried  upon  a  steamer,  kind  o'  fails  ; 

You  may  take  out  despatches  but  you  mus'  n't 

Take  nary  man  — 


148  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

THE  BRIDGE. 

You  mean  to  say,  you  dus'  n't ! 
Changed  point  o'   view  !     No,  no,  —  it  's  over 
board 

With  law  an'  gospel,  when  their  ox  is  gored  ! 
I  tell  ye,  England's  law,  on  sea  an'  land, 
Hez  oilers  ben,  "  I've  gut  the  heaviest  hand" 
Take  nary  man  ?     Fine  preachin'  from  her  lips  ! 
Why,  she  hez  taken  hundreds  from  our  ships, 
An'  would  agin,  an'  swear  she  had  a  right  to, 
Ef  we  war  n't  strong  enough  to  be  perlite  to. 
Of  all  the  sarse  thet  I  can  call  to  mind, 
England  doos  make  the  most  onpleasant  kind  : 
It 's  you  're  the  sinners  oilers,  she  's  the  saint ; 
Wut  's  good 's  all  English,  all  thet  is  n't  ain't ; 
Wut  profits  her  is  oilers  right  an'  just, 
An'  ef  you  don't  read  Scriptur  so,  you  must ; 
She  's  praised  herself  ontil  she  fairly  thinks 
There  ain't  no  light  in  Natur  when  she  winks  ; 
Hain't  she  the  Ten  Comman'ments  in  her  pus  ? 
Could    the  world    stir  'thout    she   went,    tu,    ez 


nus 


She  ain't  like  other  mortals,  thet  's  a  fact : 
She  never  stopped  the  habus-corpus  act, 
Nor  specie  payments,  nor  she  never  yet 
Cut  down  the  int'rest  on  her  public  debt ; 
She  don't  put  down  rebellions,  lets  'em  breed, 
An'  's  oilers  willin'  Ireland  should  secede  ; 
She  's  all  thet 's  honest,  honnable  an'  fair, 
An'  when  the  vartoos  died  they  made  her  heir. 


R1GLOW  PAPERS.  149 

THE  MONIMENT. 

Wai,  wal,  two  wrongs  don't  never  make  a  right ; 
Ef  we  're  mistaken,  own  up,  an'  don't  fight : 
For  gracious'  sake,  ha'n't  we  enough  to  du 
'Thout  gettin'  uj>  a  fight  with  England,  tu  ? 
She  thinks  we  're  rabble-rid  — 

THE  BRIDGE. 

An'  so  we  can't 

Distinguish  'twixt  You  ought  n't  an'  You  shan't ! 
She  jedges  by  herself  ;  she  's  no  idear 
How  't  stiddies  folks  to  give  'em  their  fair  sheer : 
The  odds  'twixt  her  an'  us  is  plain  's  a  steeple,  — 
Her  People  's  turned  to  Mob,  our  Mob  's  turned 
People. 

THE  MONIMENT. 

She  's  riled  jes'  now  — 

TIIK  RRIDGE. 

Plain  proof  her  cause  ain't  strong,  — 
The  one  thet  fust  gits  mad  's  most  oilers  wrong. 
Why,  sence  she  helped  in  lickin'  Nap  the  Fust, 
An'  pricked  a  bubble  jest  agoin'  to  bust, 
With  Rooshy,  Proosljy,  Austry,  all  assistin', 
Th'  aint  nut  a  face  but  wut  she  's  shook  her  fist 

in, 

Ez  though  she  done  it  all,  an'  ten  times  more, 
An'  nothin'  never  hed  gut  done  afore, 
Nor  never  could  agin',  'thout  she  wuz  spliced 


150  THE  BWLOW  PAPERS. 

On  to  one  eend  an'  gin  th'  old  airth  a  hoist. 
She  is  some  punkins,  thet  I  wun't  deny, 
(For  ain't  she  some  related  to  you  'n'  I  ?) 
But  there  's  a  few  small  intrists  here  below 
Outside  the  counter  o'  John  Bull  an'  Co., 
An',  though  they  can't  conceit  how  't  should  be  so, 
I  guess  the  Lord  druv  down  Creation's  spiles 
'Thout  no  gret  helpin'  from  the  British  Isles, 
An'  could  contrive  to  keep  things  pooty  stiff 
Ef  they  withdrawed  from  business  in  a  miff ; 
I  ha'n't  no  patience  with  sech  swellin'  fellers  ez 
Think  God  can't  forge  'thout  them  to  blow  the 
bellerses. 


THE  MONIMENT. 


You  're  oilers  quick  to  set  your  back  aridge,  — 
Though  't  suits  a  tom-cat  more  'n  a  sober  bridge  : 
Don't  you  git  het :  they  thought  the  thing  was 

planned  ; 
They  '11  cool  off  when  they  come  to  understand. 

THE  BRIDGE. 

Ef  thet  's  wut  you  expect,  you  '11  hev  to  wait : 
Folks  never  understand  the  folks  they  hate  : 
She'll  fin'  some  other  grievance  jest  ez  good, 
'Fore  the  month  's  out,  to  git  misunderstood. 
England  cool  off !     She  '11  do  it,  ef  she  sees 
She 's  run  her  head  into  a  swarm  o'  bees. 
I  ain't  so  prejudiced  ez  wut  you  spose  : 
I  hev  thought  England  was  the  best  thet  goes  ; 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  151 

Remember,  (no,  you  can't,)  when  /  was  reared, 
God  save  the  King  was  all  the  tune  you  heerd  : 
But  it 's  enough  to  turn  Wachuset  roun', 
This   stumpin'  fellers   when    you    think    they  're 
down. 

THE   MUNIMENT. 

But,  neighbor,  ef  they  prove  their  claim  at  law, 
The  best  way  is  to  settle  an'  not  jaw. 
An'  don't  le'  's  mutter  'bout  the  awfle  bricks 
We  '11  give  'em,  ef  we  ketch  'em  in  a  fix : 
That  'ere  's  most  frequently  the  kin'  o'  talk 
Of  critters  can't  be  kicked  to  toe  the  chalk  ; 
Your  "  You  '11  see  nex'  time  !  "  an'  u  Look  out 

bumby !  " 

Most  oilers  ends  in  eatin'  umble-pie. 
'T  wun't  pay  to  scringe  to  England :  will  it  pay 
To  fear  thet  meaner  bully,  old  "  They  '11  say  "  ? 
Suppose  they  du  say :  words  are  dreffle  bores, 
But  they  ain't  quite  so  bad  ez  seventy-fours. 
Wut  England  wants  is  jest  a  wedge  to  fit 
Where  it  '11  help  to  widen  out  our  split : 
She  's  found  her  wedge,  an'  't  aint'  for  us  to  come 
An'  lend  the  beetle  thet 's  to  drive  it  home. 
For  growed-up  folks  like  us  't  would  be  a  scandle, 
When  we  git  sarsed,  to  fly  right  off  the  handle. 
England  ain't  all  bad,  coz  she  thinks  us  blind: 
Ef  she  can't  change  her  skin,  she  can  her  mind ; 
An'  we  shall  see  her  change  it  double-quick, 
Soon  ez  we  've  proved  thet  we  're  a-goin'  to  lick. 
She  an'  Columby's  gut  to  be  fas'  friends  ; 


152  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

For  the  world  prospers  by  their  privit  ends  : 
'T  would  put  the  clock  back  all  o'  fifty  years, 
Ef  they  should  fall  together  by  the  ears. 

THE   BRIDGE. 

I  'gree  to  thet ;  she  's  nigh  us  to  wut  France  is  ; 
But  then  she  '11  hev  to  make  the  fust  advances  ; 
"We  've  gut  pride,  tu,  an'  gut  it  by  good  rights, 
An'  ketch  me  stoopin'  to  pick  up  the  mites 
O'  condescension  she  '11  be  lettin'  fall 
When  she  finds  out  we  ain't  dead  arter  all ! 
I  tell  ye  wut,  it  takes  more  'n  one  good  week 
Afore  my  nose  forgits  it 's  lied  a  tweak. 

THE   MONIMENT. 

She  '11  come  out  right  bumby,  thet  1 11  engage, 

Soon  ez  she  gits  to  seein'  we  're  of  age  ; 

This  talkin'  down  'o  hers  ain't  wuth  a  fuss ; 

It 's  nat'ral  ez  nut  likin'  't  is  to  us  ; 

Ef  we  're  agoin'  to  prove  we  be  growed-up, 

'T  wun't  be  by  barkin'  like  a  tarrier  pup, 

But  turnin'  to  an'  makin'  things  ez  good 

Ez  wut  we  're  oilers  braggin'  that  we  could  ; 

We  're  bound  to  be  good  friends,  an'  so  we  'd 

oughto, 
In  spite  of  all  the  fools  both  sides  the  water. 


THE   BRIDGE. 


I  b'lieve  thet's  so  ;  but  hearken  in  your  ear,  — 
I'm  older  'n  you,  —  Peace  wun't  keep  house  with 
Fear  : 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  153 

Ef  you  want  peace,  the  thing  you  've  gut  to  du 
Is  jes'  to  show  you  're  up  to  fightin',  tu. 
/  recollect  how  sailors'  rights  was  won 
Yard  locked  in  yard,  hot  gun-lip  kissin'  gun  : 
Why,  afore  thet,  John  Bull  sot  up  thet  he 
Hed  gut  a  kind  o'  mortgage  on  the  sea  ; 
You  'd  thought  he  held  by  Gran'ther  Adam's  will, 
An'  ef  you  knuckle  down,  he  11  think  so  still. 
Better  thet  all  our  ships  an'  all  their  crews 
Should  sink  to  rot  in  ocean's  dreamless  ooze, 
Each  torn  flag  wavin'  chellenge  ez  it  went, 
An'  each  dumb  gun  a  brave  man's  moniment, 
Than  seek  sech  peace  ez  only  cowards  crave : 
Give  me  the  peace  of  dead  men  or  of  brave ! 

THE   MONIMENT. 

I  say,  ole  boy,  it  ain't  the  Glorious  Fourth : 
You  'd    oughto    larned    'fore   this  wut  talk  wuz 

worth. 

It  ain't  our  nose  thet  gits  put  out  o'  jint ; 
It 's  England  thet  gives  up  her  dearest  pint. 
We  've  gut,  I  tell  ye  now,  enough  to  du 
In  our  own  fem'ly  fight,  afore  we  're  thru. 
I  hoped,  las1  spring,  jest  arter  Sumter's  shame, 
When  every  flag-staff  flapped  its  tethered  flame, 
An'  all  the  people,  startled  from  their  doubt, 
Come  must'rin'  to  the  flag  with  sech  a  shout,  — 
I  hoped  to  see  things  settled  'fore  this  fall, 
The  Re^bles  licked,  Jeff  Davis  hanged,  an'  all ; 
Then  come  Bull  Run,  an'  sence  then  I  've  ben 

waitin' 


154  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

Like  boys  in  Jennooary  thaw  for  skatin', 
Nothin'  to  du  but  watch  my  shadder's  trace 
Swing,  like  a  ship  at  anchor,  roun'  my  base, 
With  daylight's  flood  an'  ebb  :  it 's  gittin'  slow, 
An'  I  'most  think  we  'd  better  let  'em  go. 
I  tell  ye  wut,  this  war  's  a-goin  to  cost  — 


THE    BRIDGE. 


An'  I  tell  you  it  wun't  be  money  lost ; 
Taxes  milks  dry,  but,  neighbor,  you  '11  allow 
Thet  havin'  things  on  settled  kills  the  cow : 
We  've  gut  to  fix  this  thing  for  good  an'  all ; 
It 's  no  use  buildin'  wut 's  a-goin'  to  fall. 
I  'm  older  'n  you,  an'  I  've  seen  things  an'  men, 
An'  my  experunce,  —  tell  ye  wut  it 's  ben : 
Folks  thet   worked  thorough  was   the  ones  thet 

thriv, 

But  bad  work  follers  ye  ez  long  's  ye  live  ; 
You  can't  git  red  on  't ;  jest  ez  sure  ez  sin, 
It 's  oilers  askin'  to  be  done  agin  : 
Ef  we  should  part,  it  would  n't  be  a  week 
'Fore   your    soft-soddered    peace    would    spring 

aleak. 

We  've  turned  our  cuffs  up,  but,  to  put  her  thru, 
We  must  git  mad  an'  off  with  jackets,  tu  ; 
'T  wun't  do  to  think  thet  killin'  ain't  perlite,  — 
You  've  gut  to  be  in  airnest,  ef  you  fight ; 
Why,  two-thirds  o'  the  Rebbles  'ould  cut  dirt, 
Ef   they  once  thought  thet  Guv'ment  meant  to 

hurt; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  155 

An'  I  du  wish  our  Gin'rals  hed  in  mind 

The  folks  in  front  more  than  the  folks  behind ; 

You  wun't  do  much  ontil  you  think  it 's  God, 

An'  not  constitoounts,  thet  holds  the  rod  ; 

AVe  want  some  more  o'  Gideon's  sword,  I  jedge, 

For  proclamations  ha'n't  no  gret  of  edge  ; 

There  's  nothin'  for  a  cancer  but  the  knife, 

Onless  you  set  by  't  more  than  by  your  life. 

/  've  seen  hard  times ;  I  see  a  war  begun 

Thet  folks  thet  love  their  bellies  never  'd  won ; 

Pharo's  lean  kine  hung  on  for  seven  long  year ; 

But  when  't  was  done,  we  did  n't  count  it  dear. 

AVhy,  law  an'  order,  honor,  civil  right, 

Ef  they  ain't  wuth  it,  wut  is  wuth  a  fight  ? 

I  'm  older  'n  you :  the  plough,  the  axe,  the  mill, 

All  kin's  o'  labor  an'  all  kin's  o'  skill, 

A\Tould  be  a  rabbit  in  a  wile-cat's  claAv, 

Ef  't  warn't  for  thet  slow  critter,  'stablished  law ; 

Onsettle  thet,  an'  all  the  world  goes  whiz, 

A  screw  's  gut  loose  in  everythin'  there  is  : 

Good  buttresses  once  settled,  don't  you  fret 

An'  stir  'em  :  take  a  bridge's  word  for  thet ! 

Young  folks  are  smart,  but  all  ain't  good  thet 's 

new  ; 
I  guess  the  gran'thers  they  knowed  sunthin',  tu. 

THE  MOXIMENT. 

Amen  to  thet !  build  sure  in  the  beginnin', 
An'  then  don't  never  tech  the  underpinnin', 
Th'  older  a  Guv'ment  is,  the  better  't  suits  ; 


156  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

New  ones  hunt  folks's  corns  out  like  new  boots  : 
Change  jes'  for  change,  is  like  them  big  hotels 
Where  they  shift  plates,  an'  let  ye  live  on  smells. 


THE    BRIDGE. 


Wai,  don't  give  up  afore  the  ship  goes  down  : 
It 's  a  stiff  gale,  but  Providence  wun't  drown ; 
An'  God  wun't  leave  us  yit  to  sink  or  swim, 
Ef  we  don't  fail  to  du  wut's  right  by  Him. 
This  land  o'  ourn,  I  tell  ye,  's  gut  to  be 
A  better  country  than  man  ever  see. 
I  feel  my  sperit  swellin'  with  a  cry 
Thet  seems  to  say,  "  Break  forth  an'  prophesy !  " 
O  strange  New  World,  thet  yit  wast  never  young, 
Whose   youth   from    thee   by   gripin'    need  was 

wrung, 

Brown  foundlin'  o'  the  woods,  whose  baby-bed 
Was  prowled  roun'  by  the  Injun's  cracklin'  tread, 
An'  who  grew'st  strong  thru  shifts  an'  wants  an' 

pains, 

Nussed  by  stern  men  with  empires  in  their  brains, 
Who  saw  in  vision  their  young  Ishmel  strain 
With  each  hard  hand  a  vassal  ocean's  mane, 
Thou,  skilled  by  Freedom  an'  by  gret  events 
To  pitch   new  States  ez  Old-World    men    pitch 

tents, 

Thou,  taught  by  Fate  to  know  Jehovah's  plan 
Thet  man's  devices  can't  unmake  a  man, 
An'  whose  free  latch-string  never  was  drawed  in 
Against  the  poorest  child  of  Adam's  kin,  — 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  157 

The  grave 's  not  dug  where  traitor  hands  shall 

lay 

In  fearful  haste  thy  murdered  corse  away ! 
I  see  — 

Jest  here  some  dogs  begun  to  bark, 
So  thet  I  lost  old  Concord's  last  remark : 
I  listened  long,  but  all  I  seemed  to  hear 
Was   dead  leaves   goss'pin'  on  some  birch-trees 

near; 

But  ez  they  lied  n't  no  gret  things  to  say, 
An'  sed  'em  often,  I  come  right  away, 
An',  walkin'  home'ards,  jest  to  pass  the  time, 
I  put  some  thoughts  thet  bothered  me  in  rhyme  : 
I  hain't  hed  time  to  fairly  try  'em  on, 
But  here  they  be  —  it 's 


JONATHAN  TO  JOHN. 

IT  don't  seem  hardly  right,  John, 
When  both  my  hands  was  full, 
To  stump  me  to  a  fight,  John,  — 
Your  cousin,  tu,  John  Bull ! 
Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess 
We  know  it  now,"  sez  he, 
"  The  lion's  paw  is  all  the  law, 
Accordin'  to  J.  B., 
Thet 's  fit  for  you  an'  me !  " 

You  wonder  why  we  're  hot,  John? 
Your  mark  wuz  on  the  guns, 


158  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

The  neutral  guns,  thet  shot,  John, 
Our  brothers  an'  our  sons : 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess 

There  's  human  blood,"  sez  he, 
"  By  fits  an'  starts,  in  Yankee  hearts, 

Though  't  may  surprise  J.  B. 

More  'n  it  would  you  an'  me." 

Ef  /  turned  mad  dogs  loose,  John, 

On  your  front-parlor  stairs, 
Would  it  jest  meet  your  views,  John, 
To  wait  an'  sue  their  heirs  ? 
Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 
I  on'y  guess,"  sez  he, 
"  Thet  ef  Vattel  on  his  toes  fell, 
'T  would  kind  o'  rile  J.  B., 
Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me !  " 

Who  made  the  law  thet  hurts,  John, 

Heads  I  win,  —  ditto  tails  ? 
"  J.  B"  was  on  his  shirts,  John, 
Onless  my  memory  fails. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 
(I  'm  good  at  thet,)  "  sez  he. 
"  Thet  sauce  for  goose  ain't  jest  the  juice 
For  ganders  with  J.  B., 
No  more  than  you  or  me  !  " 

When  your  rights  was  our  wrongs,  John, 
You  did  n't  stop  for  fuss,  — 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  159 

Britanny's  trident  prongs,  John, 
Was  good  'nough  law  for  us. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 

Though  physic  's  good,"  sez  he, 
"  It  does  n't  foller  thet  he  can  swaller 

Prescriptions  signed  '«/.  B.J 

Put  up  by  you  an'  me  !  " 

We  own  the  ocean,  tu,  John : 

You  mus'  n'  take  it  hard, 
Ef  we  can't  think  with  you,  John, 
It  's  jest  your  own  back-yard. 
Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 
Ef  thet 's  his  claim,"  sez  he, 
"  The  fencin'-stuff  '11  cost  enough 
To  bust  up  friend  J.  B., 
Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me  !  " 

Why  talk  so  dreffle  big,  John, 

Of  honor,  when  it  meant 
You  did  n't  care  a  fig,  John, 
But  jest  for  ten  per  cent? 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 
He  's  like  the  rest,"  sez  he  : 
"  When  all  is  done,  it  's  number  one 
Thet  's  nearest  to  J.  B., 
Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me !  " 

We  give  the  critters  back,  John, 
Cos  Abram  thought  't  was  right ; 


160  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

It  warn't  your  bullyin'  clack,  John, 
Provokin'  us  to  fight. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess 

We  've  a  hard  row,"  sez  he, 
"  To  hoe  jest  now  ;  but  thet,  somehow, 

May  happen  to  J.  B., 

Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me  !  " 

We  ain't  so  weak  an'  poor,  John, 

With  twenty  million  people, 
An'  close  to  every  door,  John, 
A  school-house  an'  a  steeple. 
Ole  Uncle  S.  se/  he,  "  I  guess 
It  is  a  fact,"  sez  he, 
"  The  surest  plan  to  make  a  Man 
Is,  think  him  so,  J.  B., 
Ez  much  ez  you  or  me  !  " 

Our  folks  believe  in  Law,  John  ; 

An'  it 's  for  her  sake,  now, 
They  've  left  the  axe  an'  saw,  John, 
The  anvil  an'  the  plough. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 
Ef  't  warn't  for  law,"  sez  he, 
"  There'd  be  one  shindy  from  here  to  Indy ; 
An'  thet  don't  suit  J.  B. 
(When  't  ain't  'twixt  you  an'  me  !)  " 

We  know  we  Ve  gut  a  cause,  John, 
Thet  's  honest,  just,  an'  true  ; 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  161 

We  thought 't  would  win  applause,  John, 
Ef  nowheres  else,  from  you. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess 

His  love  of  right,"  sez  he, 
"  Hangs  by  a  rotten  fibre  o'  cotton : 

There  's  natur'  in  J.  B., 

Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me  !  " 

The  South  says,  "  Poor  folks  down  !  "  John, 

An'  "  All  men  up  !  "  say  we,  — 
White,  yaller,  black,  an'  brown,  John: 
Now  which  is  your  idee  ? 

Ole  Uncle  S,  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 
John  preaches  wal,"  sez  he ; 
"  But,  sermon  thru,  an'  come  to  du, 
Why,  there  's  the  old  J.  B. 
A  crowdin'  you  an'  me  !  " 

Shall  it  be  love,  or  hate,  John  ? 

It 's  you  thet  's  to  decide  ; 
Ain't  your  bonds  held  by  Fate,  John, 
Like  all  the  world's  beside  ? 
Ole  Uncle  S,  sez  he,  "  I  guess 
Wise  men  forgive,"  sez  he, 
"  But  not  forget ;  an'  some  time  yet 
Thet  truth  may  strike  J.  B., 
Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me  !  " 

God  means  to  make  this  land,  John, 
Clear  thru,  from  sea  to  sea, 


162  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Believe  an'  understand,  John, 
The  wuth  o'  bein'  free. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "I  guess, 

God's  price  is  high,"  sez  he ; 
"  But  nothin'  else  than  wut  He  sells 

Wears  long,  an'  thet  J.  B. 

May  larn,  like  you  an'  me  !  " 


No.  III. 

BIRDOFREDUM   SAWIN,   ESQ.,    TO  MR. 
HOSEA   BIGLOAV. 

With  the  following  Letter  from  the  REVEREND 
HOMER  WILBUR,  A.  M. 

TO   THE    EDITORS    OF    THE    ATLANTIC    MONTHLY. 
JAALAM,  7th  Feb.,  1862. 

EESPECTED  FRIENDS,  —  If  I  know  my 
self,  —  and  surely  a  man  can  hardly  be 
supposed  to  have  overpassed  the  limit  of 
fourscore  years  without  attaining  to  some 
proficiency  in  that  most  useful  branch  of 
learning,  (e  coelo  descend  it,  says  the  pagan 
poet,)  —  I  have  no  great  smack  of  that 
weakness  which  would  press  upon  the  pub 
lic  attention  any  matter  pertaining  to  my 
private  affairs.  But  since  the  following  let 
ter  of  Mr.  Sawin  contains  not  only  a  direct 
allusion  to  myself,  but  that  in  connection 
with  a  topic  of  interest  to  all  those  engaged 
in  the  public  ministrations  of  the  sanctu 
ary,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  touching  briefly 


164  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

thereupon.  Mr.  Sawin  was  never  a  stated 
attendant  upon  my  preaching,  —  never,  as  I 
believe,  even  an  occasional  one,  since  the 
erection  of  the  new  house  (where  we  now 
worship)  in  1845.  He  did,  indeed,  for  a 
time,  supply  a  not  unacceptable  bass  in  the 
choir ;  but,  whether  on  some  umbrage  (om- 
nibus  hoc  vitium  est  cantoribus)  taken 
against  the  bass-viol,  then,  and  till  his  de 
cease  in  1850,  (cet.  77,)  under  the  charge  of 
Mr.  Asaph  Perley,  or,  as  was  reported  by 
others,  on  account  of  an  imminent  sub 
scription  for  a  new  bell,  he  thenceforth  ab 
sented  himself  from  all  outward  and  visible 
communion.  Yet  he  seems  to  have  pre 
served,  (altti  mente  repostum^)  as  it  were, 
in  the  pickle  of  a  mind  soured  by  prejudice, 
a  lasting  scunner,  as  he  would  call  it,  against 
our  staid  and  -decent  form  of  worship  ;  for  I 
would  rather  in  that  wise  interpret  his  fling, 
than  suppose  that  any  chance  tares  sown  by 
my  pulpit  discourses  should  survive  so  long, 
while  good  seed  too  often  fails  to  root  itself. 
I  humbly  trust  that  I  have  no  personal  feel 
ing  in  the  matter  ;  though  I  know  that,  if 
we  sound  any  man  deep  enough,  our  lead 
shall  bring  up  the  mud  of  human  nature  at 
last.  The  Bretons  believe  in  an  evil  spirit 


THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS.  165 

which  they  call  ar  chouskezik,  whose  office 
it  is  to  make  the  congregation  drowsy  ;  and 
though  I  have  never  had  reason  to  think  that 
he  was  specially  busy  among  my  flock,  yet 
have  I  seen  enough  to  make  me  sometimes 
regret  the  hinged  seats  of  the  ancient  meet 
ing-house,  whose  lively  clatter,  not  unwil 
lingly  intensified  by  boys  beyond  eyeshot 
of  the  tithiug-man,  served  at  intervals  as  a 
wholesome  rtiveil.  It  is  true,  I  have  num 
bered  among  my  parishioners  some  who  are 
proof  against  the  prophylactic  fennel,  nay, 
whose  gift  of  somnolence  rivalled  that  of 
the  Cretan  Rip  Van  Winkle,  Epimenides, 
and  who,  nevertheless,  complained  not  so 
much  of  the  substance  as  of  the  length  of 
my  (by  them  unheard)  discourses.  Some 
ingenious  persons  of  a  philosophic  turn  have 
assured  us  that  our  pulpits  were  set  too  high, 
and  that  the  soporific  tendency  increased 
with  the  ratio  of  the  angle  in  which  the 
hearer's  eye  was  constrained  to  seek  the 
preacher.  This  were  a  curious  topic  for 
investigation.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that 
some  sermons  are  pitched  too  high,  and  I 
remember  many  struggles  with  the  drowsy 
fiend  in  my  youth.  Happy  Saint  Anthony 
of  Padua,  whose  finny  acolytes,  however  they 


166  THE   BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

might  profit,  could  never  murmur  !  Quare 
fremuerunt  gentes  ?  Who  is  he  that  can 
twice  a  week  be  inspired,  or  has  eloquence 
(ut  ita  dicarn)  always  on  tap?  A  good 
man,  and,  next  to  David,  a  sacred  poet, 
(himself,  haply,  not  inexpert  of  evil  in  this 
particular,)  has  said, — 

"  The  worst  speak  something  good  :  if  all  want  sense, 
God  takes  a  text  and  preacheth  patience." 

There  are  one  or  two  other  points  in  Mr. 
Sawin's  letter  which  1  would  also  briefly  an 
imadvert  upon.  And  first,  concerning  the 
claim  he  sets  up  to  a  certain  superiority 
of  blood  and  lineage  in  the  people  of  our 
Southern  States,  now  unhappily  in  rebellion 
against  lawful  authority  and  their  own  bet 
ter  interests.  There  is  a  sort  of  opinions,  an 
achronisms  at  once  and  anachorisms,  foreign 
both  to  the  age  and  the  country,  that  main 
tain  a  feeble  and  buzzing  existence,  scarce  to 
be  called  life,  like  winter  flies,  which  in  mild 
weather  crawl  out  from  obscure  nooks  and 
crannies  to  expatiate  in  the  sun,  and  some 
times  acquire  vigor  enough  to  disturb  with 
their  enforced  familiarity  the  studious  hours 
of  the  scholar.  One  of  the  most  stupid  and 
pertinacious  of  these  is  the  theory  that  the 
Southern  States  were  settled  by  a  class  of 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  167 

emigrants  from  the  Old  World  socially  supe 
rior  to  those  who  founded  the  institutions  of 
New  England.  The  Virginians  especially  lay 
claim  to  this  generosity  of  lineage,  which 
were  of  no  possible  account,  were  it  not  for 
the  fact  that  such  superstitions  are  sometimes 
not  without  their  effect  on  the  course  of  hu 
man  affairs.  The  early  adventurers  to  Massa 
chusetts  at  least  paid  their  passages ;  no  fel 
ons  were  ever  shipped  thither ;  and  though  it 
be  true  that  many  deboshed  younger  brothers 
of  what  are  called  good  families  may  have 
sought  refuge  in  Virginia,  it  is  equally  cer 
tain  that  a  great  part  of  the  early  deporta 
tions  thither  were  the  sweepings  of  the  Lon 
don  streets  and  the  leavings  of  the  London 
stews.  It  wras  this  my  Lord  Bacon  had  in 
mind  when  he  wrote  :  "  It  is  a  shameful  and 
unblessed  thing  to  take  the  scum  of  people 
and  wicked  condemned  men  to  be  the  people 
with  whom  you  plant."  That  certain  names 
are  found  there  is  nothing  to  the  purpose, 
for,  even  had  an  alias  been  beyond  the  in 
vention  of  the  knaves  of  that  generation,  it 
is  known  that  servants  were  often  called 
by  their  masters'  names  as  slaves  are  now. 
On  what  the  heralds  call  the  spindle  side, 
some,  at  least,  of  the  oldest  Virginian  fami- 


168  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

lies  are  descended  from  matrons  who  were 
exported  and  sold  for  so  many  hogsheads  of 
tobacco  the  head.  So  notorious  was  this, 
that  it  became  one  of  the  jokes  of  contempo 
rary  playwrights,  not  only  that  men  bankrupt 
in  purse  and  character  were  "  food  for  the 
Plantations,"  (and  this  before  the  settlement 
of  New  England),  but  also  that  any  drab 
would  suffice  to  wive  such  pitiful  adventur 
ers.  "  Never  choose  a  wife  as  if  you  were  go 
ing  to  Virginia,"  says  Middleton  in  one  of  his 
comedies.  The  mule  is  apt  to  forget  all  but 
the  equine  side  of  his  pedigree.  How  early 
the  counterfeit  nobility  of  the  Old  Dominion 
became  a  topic  of  ridicule  in  the  Mother 
Country  may  be  learned  from  a  play  of  Mrs. 
Behn's,  founded  on  the  Rebellion  of  Bacon : 
for  even  these  kennels  of  literature  may 
yield  a  fact  or  two  to  pay  the  raking.  Mrs. 
Flirt,  the  keeper  of  a  Virginia  ordinary,  calls 
herself  the  daughter  of  a  baronet  "  undone 
in  the  late  rebellion,"  —  her  father  having 
in  truth  been  a  tailor,  —  and  three  of  the 
Council,  assuming  to  themselves  an  equal 
splendor  of  origin,  are  shown  to  have  been, 
one  "  a  broken  exciseman  who  came  over  a 
poor  servant,"  another  a  tinker  transported 
for  theft,  and  the  third  "  a  common  pick- 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  169 

pocket  often  flogged  at  the  cart's  tail."  The 
ancestry  of  South  Carolina  will  as  little  pass 
muster  at  the  Herald's  Visitation,  though  I 
hold  them  to  have  been  more  reputable,  in 
asmuch  as  many  of  them  were  honest  trades 
men  and  artisans,  in  some  measure  exiles  for 
conscience'  sake,  who  would  have  smiled  at 
the  high-flying  nonsense  of  their  descendants. 
Some  of  the  more  respectable  were  Jews. 
The  absurdity  of  supposing  a  population  of 
eight  millions  all  sprung  from  gentle  loins 
in  the  course  of  a  century  and  a  half  is 
too  manifest  for  confutation.  But  of  what 
use  to  discuss  the  matter  ?  An  expert  gene 
alogist  will  provide  any  solvent  man  with  a 
genus  et  proavos  to  order.  My  Lord  Bur- 
leigh  said  that  "  nobility  was  ancient  riches," 
whence  also  the  Spanish  were  wont  to  call 
their  nobles  ricos  hombres,  and  the  aris 
tocracy  of  America  are  the  descendants  of 
those  who  first  became  wealthy,  by  whatever 
means.  Petroleum  will  in  this  wise  be  the 
source  of  much  good  blood  among  our  pos 
terity.  The  aristocracy  of  the  South,  such 
as  it  is,  has  the  shallowest  of  all  foundations, 
for  it  is  only  skin-deep,  —  the  most  odious  of 
all,  for,  while  affecting  to  despise  trade,  it 
traces  its  orijrin  to  a  successful  traffic  in 


170  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

men,  women,  and  children,  and  still  draws 
its  chief  revenues  thence.  And  though,  as 
Doctor  Chamberlayne  consolingly  says  in 
his  Present  State  of  England,  "  to  become 
a  Merchant  of  Foreign  Commerce,  without 
serving  any  Apprentisage,  hath  been  allowed 
no  disparagement  to  a  Gentleman  born,  es 
pecially  to  a  younger  Brother,"  yet  I  con 
ceive  that  he  would  hardly  have  made  a  like 
exception  in  favor  of  the  particular  trade 
in  question.  Oddly  enough  this  trade  re 
verses  the  ordinary  standards  of  social  re 
spectability  no  less  than  of  morals,  for  the 
retail  and  domestic  is  as  creditable  as  the 
wholesale  and  foreign  is  degrading  to  him 
who  follows  it.  Are  our  morals,  then,  no 
better  than  mores  after  all  ?  I  do  not  be 
lieve  that  such  aristocracy  as  exists  at  the 
South  (for  I  hold  with  lA^&riua,  fortissimum 
quemque  generosissimum)  will  be  found  an 
element  of  anything  like  persistent  strength 
in  war,  —  thinking  the  saying  of  Lord  Bacon 
(whom  one  quaintly  called  inductionis  dom- 
inus  et  Verulamii)  as  true  as  it  is  pithy, 
that  "  the  more  gentlemen,  ever  the  more 
books  of  subsidies."  It  is  odd  enough  as  an 
historical  precedent,  that,  while  the  fathers 
of  New  England  were  laying  deep  in  relig- 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  171 

ion,  education,  and  freedom  the  basis  of  a 
polity  which  has  substantially  outlasted  any 
then  existing,  the  first  work  of  the  founders 
of  Virginia,  as  may  be  seen  in  Wingfield's 
Memorial,  was  conspiracy  and  rebellion, — 
odder  yet,  as  showing  the  changes  which  are 
wrought  by  circumstance,  that  the  first  in 
surrection  in  South  Carolina  was  against  the 
aristocratical  scheme  of  the  Proprietary  Gov 
ernment.  I  do  not  find  that  the  cuticular 
aristocracy  of  the  South  has  added  anything 
to  the  refinements  of  civilization  except  the 
carrying  of  bowie-knives  and  the  chewing  of 
tobacco,  —  a  high-toned  Southern  gentleman 
being  commonly  not  only  quadrumanous  but 
quidruminant. 

I  confess  that  the  present  letter  of  Mr. 
Sawin  increases  my  doubts  as  to  the  sincer 
ity  of  the  convictions  which  he  professes,  and 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  triumph  of 
the  legitimate  Government,  sure  sooner  or 
later  to  take  place,  will  find  him  and  a  large 
majority  of  his  newly-adopted  fellow-citizens 
(who  hold  with  Daedalus,  the  primal  sitter- 
on  -  the  -  fence,  that  medium  tenere  tutissi- 
murn)  original  Union  men.  The  criticisms 
towards  the  close  of  his  letter  on  certain  of 
our  failings  are  worthy  to  be  seriously  per- 


172  TEE  B1GLOW  PAPERS. 

pended  ;  for  he  is  not,  as  I  think,  without  a 
spice  of  vulgar  shrewdness.  Fas  est  et  db 
hosts  doceri :  there  is  no  reckoning  without 
your  host.  As  to  the  good-nature  in  us 
which  he  seems  to  gird  at,  while  I  would  not 
consecrate  a  chapel,  as  they  have  not  scru 
pled  to  do  in  France  to  Notre  Dame  de  la 
Haine  (Our  Lady  of  Hate),  yet  I  cannot 
forget  that  the  corruption  of  good-nature  is 
the  generation  of  laxity  of  principle.  Good 
nature  is  our  national  characteristic ;  and 
though  it  be,  perhaps,  nothing  more  than 
a  culpable  weakness  or  cowardice,  when  it 
leads  us  to  put  up  tamely  with  manifold  im 
positions  and  breaches  of  implied  contracts, 
(as  too  frequently  in  our  public  convey 
ances,)  it  becomes  a  positive  crime,  when  it 
leads  us  to  look  unresentfully  on  peculation, 
and  to  regard  treason  to  the  best  Govern 
ment  that  ever  existed  as  something  with 
which  a  gentleman  may  shake  hands  without 
soiling  his  fingers.  I  do  not  think  the  gal 
lows-tree  the  most  profitable  member  of  our 
Sylva  ;  but,  since  it  continues  to  be  planted, 
1  would  fain  see  a  Northern  limb  ingrafted 
on  it,  that  it  may  bear  some  other  fruit  than 
loyal  Tennesseeans. 

A  relic  has  recently  been  discovered  on 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  173 

the  east  bank  of  Bushy  Brook  in  North 
Jaalam,  which  I  conceive  to  be  an  inscrip 
tion  in  Runic  characters  relating  to  the 
early  expedition  of  the  Northmen  to  this 
continent.  I  shall  make  fuller  investigations, 
and  communicate  the  result  in  due  season. 
Respectfully, 

Your  obedient  servant, 
HOMER  WILBUR,  A.  M. 

P.    S.  —  I   inclose   a   year's   subscription 
from  Deacon  Tiukham. 


I  HED  it  on  my  min'  las'  time,  when  I  to  write 

ye  started, 
To  tech  the  leadin'  featurs  o'  my  gittin'  me  con- 

varted ; 
But,  ez  my  letters  hez  to  go  clearn  roun'  by  way 

o'  Cuby, 
'T  wun't  seem  no  staler  now  than  then,  by  th' 

time  it  gits  where  you  be. 
You  know  up  North,  though  sees  an'  things  air 

plenty  ez  you  please, 
Ther'   warn't   nut  one  on   'em  thet  comes   jes' 

square  with  my  idees  : 

They  all  on  'em  wuz  too  much  mixed  with  Cov 
enants  o'  Works, 


174  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

An'  would  hev  answered  jest  ez  wal  for  Afrikins 

an'  Turks, 

Fer  where  's   a  Christian's  privilige  an'  his  re 
wards  ensuin', 
Ef  'tain't  perfessin'   right  an  eend  'thout  nary 

need  o'  doin'  ? 
I  dessay  they  suit  workin  '-folks  thet  ain't  noways 

pertic'lar, 
But  nut  your  Southun  gen'leman  thet  keeps  his 

parpendic'lar ; 
I  don't  blame  nary  man  thet  casts  his  lot  along 

o'  his  folks, 
But  ef  you  callate  to  save  me,  't  must  be  with 

folks  thet  is  folks  ; 
Cov'nants  o'  works  go  'ginst  my  grain,  but  down 

here  I  've  found  out 
The  true  fus'-f em'ly  A  1  plan,  —  here  's  how  it 

come  about. 
When  I  fus'  sot  up  with  Miss  S.,  sez  she  to  me, 

sez  she, 
"  Without  you  git  religion,  Sir,  the  thing  can't 

never  be ; 
Nut  but  wut  I  respeck,"  sez  she,  "your  intellec- 

tle  part, 
But  you  wun't  noways  du  for  me  athout  a  change 

o'  heart : 
Nothun  religion  works  wal  North,  but  it 's  ez  soft 

ez  spruce, 
Compared  to  ourn,  for  keepin'  sound,"  sez  she, 

"  upon  the  goose  ; 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  175 

A  day's  experunce  'd  prove  to  ye,  ez  easy  'z  pull 
a  trigger, 

It  takes  the  Southun  pint  o'  view  to  raise  ten 
bales  a  nigger ; 

You  '11  fin'  thet  human  natur,  South,  ain't  whole 
some  more  'n  skin-deep, 

An'  once  't  a  darkle  's  took  with  it,  he  wun't  be 
wuth  his  keep." 

"  How  shell  I  git  it,  Ma'am  ?  "  sez  I.  "  Attend 
the  nex'  camp-meetin','' 

Sez  she,  "  an'  it  '11  come  to  ye  ez  cheap  ez  on- 
bleached  sheetin'." 

Wai,  so  I  went  along  an'  hearn  most  an  impres 
sive  sarmon 

About  besprinklin'  Afriky  with  fourth-proof  dew 
o'  Harmon : 

He  did  n't  put  no  weaknin'  in,  but  gin  it  to  us  hot, 

'Z  ef  he  an'  Satan  'd  ben  two  bulls  in  one  five- 
acre  lot : 

I  don't  purtend  to  foller  him,  but  give  ye  jes'  the 
heads ; 

For  pulpit  ellerkence,  you  know,  'most  oilers  kin' 
o'  spreads. 

Ham's  seed  wuz  gin  to  us  in  chairge,  an'  should 
n't  we  be  li'ble 

In  Kingdom  Come,  ef  we  kep'  back  their  priv'- 
lege  in  the  Bible  ? 

The  cusses  an'  the  promerses  make  one  gret 
chain,  an'  ef 


176  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

You  snake  one  link  out  here,  one  there,  how  much 

on  't  ud  be  lef '  ? 
All  things  wuz  gin  to  man  for  's  use,  his  sarvice, 

an'  delight; 
An'  don't  the  Greek  an'  Hebrew  words  thet  mean 

a  Man  mean  White  ? 
Ain't  it  belittlin'  the  Good  Book  in  all  its  proudes' 

featurs 
To  think  't  wuz  wrote  for  black  an'  brown  an' 

lasses-colored  creaturs, 
Thet  could  n'  read  it,  ef  they  would,  nor  ain't  by 

lor  allowed  to, 
But  ough'  to  take  wut  we  think  suits  their  nature, 

an'  be  proud  to  ? 
Warn't  it  more  prof 'table  to  bring  your  raw  ma- 

teril  thru 
Where  you  can  work  it  inta  grace  an'  inta  cotton, 

tu, 
Than  sendin'  missionaries  out  where  fevers  might 

defeat  'em, 
An'  ef  the  butcher  did  n'  call,  their  p'rishioners 

might  eat  'em  ? 
An'  then,  agin,  wut  airthly  use  ?      Nor  't  warn't 

our  fault,  in  so  fur 
Ez  Yankee  skippers  would  keep  on  a-totin'  on  'em 

over. 
'T  improved  the  whites  by  savin'  'em  from  ary 

need  o'  wurkin', 
An'  kep'  the  blacks  from  bein'  lost  thru  idleness 

an'  shirkin' ; 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  177 

We  took  to  'em  ez  nat'ral  ez  a  barn-owl  doos  to 

mice, 
An'  bed  our  hull  time  on  our  hands  to  keep  us 

out  o'  vice ; 
It  made  us  feel  ez  pop'lar  ez  a  hen  doos  with  one 

chicken, 
An'  fill  our  place  in  Natur's  scale  by  givin'  'em  a 

lickin' : 
For  why  should  Caesar  git  his  dues  more  'n  Juno, 

Pomp,  an'  Cuffy  ? 
It 's  justifyin'  Ham  to  spare  a  nigger  when  he  's 

stuffy. 
Where  'd  their  soles  go  tu,  like  to  know,  ef  we 

should  let  'em  ketch 
Freeknowledgism  an'  Fourierism  an'  Speritoolism 

an'  sech  ? 
When  Satan    sets    himself  to  work  to  raise  his 

very  bes'  muss, 
He   scatters    roun'  onscriptur'l  views  relatin'  to 

Ones'mus. 
You  'd  ough'  to  seen,  though,  how  his  facs  an' 

argymunce  an'  figgers 
Drawed  tears  o'   real   conviction  from  a  lot  o' 

pen'tent  niggers  ! 
It  warn't  'like  Wilbur's    meetin',  where   you  're 

shet  up  in  a  pew, 
Your  dickeys    sorrin'  off  your  ears,  an'  bilin'  to 

be  thru ; 

Ther'  wuz  a  tent  clost  by  thet  hed  a  kag  o'  sun- 
thin'  in  it, 


178  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Where  you  could  go,  ef  you  wuz   dry,  an'  damp 

ye  in  a  minute  ; 
An'  ef  you  did  dror  off  a  spell,  ther'  wuz  n't  no 

occasion 
To  lose  the  thread,  because,  ye  see,  he  bellered 

like  all  Bashan. 
It 's  dry  work  follerin'  argymunce,  an'  so,  'twix' 

this  an'  thet, 
I  felt  conviction  weighin'  down  somehow  inside 

my  hat ; 
It  gvowed  an'  growed  like  Jonah's  gourd,  a  kin' 

o'  whirlin'  ketched  me, 
Ontil  I  fin'lly  clean  giv  out  an'  owned  up  thet 

he  'd  fetched  me  ; 
An'  when  nine  tenths  o'  th'  perrish  took  to  tum- 

hlin'  roun'  an'  hollerin', 
I  did  n'  fin'  no  gret  in  th'  way  o'  turnin'  tu  an' 

follerin'. 
Soon  ez  Miss  S.  see  thet,  sez  she,  "  Thet 's  wut  I 

call  wuth  seein' ! 
Thet 's   actin'  like   a   reas'nable   an'    intellectle 

bein' !  " 
An'  so  we  fin'lly  made  it  up,  concluded  to  hitch 

hosses, 
An'  here  I  be  'n  my  ellermunt  among  creation's 

bosses ; 
Arter  I  'd  drawed  sech  heaps  o'  blanks,  Fortin  at 

last  hez  sent  a  prize, 
An'  chose  me  for  a  shinin'  light  o'  missionary 

entaprise. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  179 

This   leads  me  to  another  pint  on  which  I  've 

changed  my  plan 
0'  thinkin'  so  's  't  I  might  become  a  straight-out 

Southun  man. 
Miss  S.  (her  maiden  name  wuz  Higgs,  o'  the  fus' 

fem'ly  here) 
On  her  Ma's  side  's  all  Juggernot,  on  Pa's  all 

Cavileer, 
An'  sence  I  've  merried  into  her  an'  stept  into  her 

shoes, 
It  ain't  more  'n  nateral  thet  I  should  modderfy 

my  views : 
I  Ve  ben  a-reaclin'  in  Debow  ontil  I  've  fairly 

gut 
So  'nlightened   thet  I  'd  full  ez  lives  ha'  ben  a 

Dock  ez  nut ; 
An'  when  we  've  laid  ye  all  out  stiff,  an'  Jeff  hez 

gut  his  crown, 
An'  comes  to  pick  his  nobles  out,  wurit  this  child 

be  in  town ! 
We  '11  hev  an  Age  o'  Chivverlry  surpassin'  Mister 

Burke's, 
Where  every  fem'ly  is  ftis'-best  and  nary  white 

man  works : 
Our  system  's  sech,  the  thing  '11  root  ez  easy  ez  a 

tater ; 
For  while  your  lords  in  furrin  parts  ain't  noways 

marked  by  natur', 
Nor  sot  apart  from  ornery  folks  in  featurs  nor  in 

figgers, 


180  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Ef  ourn  '11  keep  their  faces  washed,  you  '11  know 

'em  from  their  niggers. 
Ain't  seek  things  wuth  secedin'  for,  an'  gittin' 

red  o'  you 
Thet  waller  in  your  low  idees,  an'  will  till  all  is 

blue? 
Fact,  is,  we  air  a  diff'rent  race,  an'  I,  for  one, 

don't  see, 
Sech  havin'  oilers  ben  the  case,  how  w'  ever  did 

agree. 
It 's  sunthin'  thet  you  lab'rin'-folks  up  North  hed 

ough'  to  think  on, 
Thet  Higgses  can't  bemean  themselves  to  rulin' 

by  a  Lincoln,  — 

Thet  men,  (an'  guv'nors,  tu,)  thet  hez  sech  Nor 
mal  names  ez  Pickens, 
Accustomed  to  no  kin'  o'  work,  'thout  't  is  to  giv- 

in'  lickins, 
Can't  masure  votes  with  folks  thet  git  their  livins 

from  their  farms, 
An'  prob'ly  think  thet  Law  's  ez   good  ez  hevin' 

coats  o'  arms. 
Sence  I  've  ben  here,  I  've  hired  a  chap  to  look 

about  for  me 
To   git  me   a  transplantable  an'   thrifty  fem'ly- 

tree, 
An'  he  tells  me  the  Sawins  is  ez  much  o'  Normal 

blood 
Ez  Pickens  an'  the  rest  on'  em,  an'  older  'n  Noah's 

flood. 


THE  El  GLOW  PAPERS.  181 

Your  Normal  schools  wun't  turn  ye  into  Nor 
mals,  for  it  's  clear, 
Ef  eddykatin'  done  the   thing,  they  'd  be  some 

skurcer  here. 
Pickenses,  Boggses,  Pettuses,  Magoffins,  Letch- 

ers,  Polks,  — 
Where  can  you  scare  up  names  like  them  among 

your  mudsill  folks  ? 
Ther'  's  nothin'  to  compare  with  'em,  you  'd  fin', 

ef  you  should  glance, 
Among  the  tip-top  femerlies  in  Englan',  nor  in 

France : 
I  've  hearn  from  'sponsible  men  whose  word  wuz 

full  ez  good  's  their  note, 
Men  thet  can  run  their  face  for  drinks,  an'  keep 

a  Sunday  coat, 
Thet  they  wuz  all  on  'em  come  down,  and  come 

down  pooty  fur, 
From  folks  thet,  'thout  their  crowns  wuz  on,  ou' 

doors  would  n'  never  stir, 
Nor  thet   ther'  warn't  a  Southun  man  but  wut 

wuz  primy  fashy 
0'  the  bes'  blood  in   Europe,  yis,  an'  Afriky  an' 

Ashy : 
Sech  bein'  the   case,  is  't  likely  we  should  bend 

like  cotton-wickin', 
Or  set  down  under  anythin'  so   low-lived  ez  a 

lickin'  ? 

More  'n  this, — hain't  we  the  literatoor  an'  sci 
ence,  tu,  by  gorry  ? 


182  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

Hain't  we  them  intellectle  twins,    them  giants, 

Simms  an'  Maury, 
Each  with  full  twice  the  ushle  brains,  like  nothin' 

thet  I  know, 
'Thout  't  wuz  a  double-headed  calf  I  see  once  to 

a  show  ? 

For  all  thet,  I  warn't  jest  at   fust   in   favor   o' 

secedin' ; 
I  wuz  for  layin'  low  a  spell  to  find  out  where 

't  wuz  leadin', 
For  hevin'  South-Carliny  try  her  hand  at  seprit- 

nationin', 
She  takin'  resks  an'  findin'  funds,  an'  we  co-op- 

erationin',  — 
I  mean  a  kin'  o'  hangin'  roun'  an'  settin'  on  the 

fence, 
Till  Prov'dunce  pinted  how  to  jump  an'  save  the 

most  expense ; 

I  recollected  thet  'ere  mine  o'  lead  to  Shiraz  Centre 
Thet  bust  up  Jabez  Pettibone,  an'  did  n't  want 

to  ventur' 
'Fore  I  wuz  sartin  wut  come  out  ud  pay  for  wut 

went  in, 
For  swappin'  silver  off  for  lead   ain't   the   sure 

way  to  win ; 
(An',  fact,  it  doos  look  now  ez  though  — but  folks 

must  live  an'  larn  — 
We  should  git  lead,  an'  more  'n  we  want,  out  o' 

the  Old  Consarn ;) 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  183 

But  when  I  see   a  man  so  wise   an'  honest   ez 

Buchanan 
A-lettin'  us  hev  all  the  forts  an'  all  the  arms,  an' 

cannon, 
Admittin'  we  wuz  nat'lly  right  an'  you  wuz  nat- 

'lly  wrong, 
Coz  you  wuz   lab'rin'-folks   an'  we  wuz  wut  they 

call  bony-tong, 
An'  coz  there  warn't  no  fight  in  ye  more  'n  in  a 

mashed  potater, 
While  two  o'  us  can't  skurcely  meet  but  wut  we 

fight  by  natur', 

An'  th'  ain't  a  bar-room  here  would  pay  for  open- 
in'  on  't  a  night, 
Without   it    giv  the   priverlege  o'  bein'  shot  at 

sight, 
Which   proves    we  're    Natur's    noblemen,  with 

whom  it  don't  surprise 

The  British  aristoxy  should  feel  boun'  to  sympa 
thize,  — 
Seein'  all  this,  an'  seein',  tu,  the  thing  wuz  strik- 

in'  roots 
While   Uncle  Sam  sot  still  in  hopes  thet  some 

one  'd  bring  his  boots, 
I  thought  th'  ole  Union's  hoops  wuz  off,  an'  let 

myself  be  sucked  in 
To  rise  a  peg  an'  jine  the  crowd  thet  went  for 

reconstructing  — 
Thet  is,   to  hev  the   pardnership  under  th'   ole 

name  continner 


184  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Jest  ez  it  wuz,  we  drorrin'  pay,  you  findin'  bone 

an'  sinner,  — 
On'y  to  put  it  in  the   bond,  an'  enter  't  in  the 

journals, 
Thet  you  're  the  nat'ral  rank  an'  file,  an'  we  the 

nat'ral  kurnels. 

Now  this  I  thought  a  fees'ble  plan,  thet  'ud  work 

smooth  ez  grease, 
Suitin'  the   Nineteenth  Century  an'  Upper  Ten 

idees, 
An'  there  I  meant  to  stick,  an'  so  did  most  o'  th' 

leaders,  tu, 
Coz  we  all  thought  the  chance  was  good  o'  puttin' 

on  it  thru ; 
But  Jeff  he  hit  upon  a  way  o'  helpin'  on  us  for- 

rard 
By  bein'  unannermous,  —  a  trick  you  ain't  quite 

up  to,  Norrard. 
A  baldin  hain't  no  more  'f  a  chance  with  them 

new  apple-corers 

Than  folks's  oppersition  views  aginst  the  Ring 
tail  Roarers ; 
They  '11  take  'em  out  on  him  'bout  east,  —  one 

canter  on  a  rail 
Makes  a  man  feel  unannermous  ez  Jonah  in  the 

whale ; 
Or  ef  he  's  a  slow-moulded  cuss  thet  can't  seem 

quite  t'  agree, 
He  gits  the  noose  by  tellergraph  upon  the  nighes' 

tree: 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  185 

Their  mission-work   with  Afrikins  hez  put  'em 

up,  thet  's  sartin, 
To  all  the  mos'  across-lot  ways  o'  preachin'  an' 

convartin' ; 
I  '11  bet  my  hat  th'  ain't  nary  priest,  nor  all  on 

'em  together, 
Thet  cairs  conviction  to  the  min'  like  Reveren' 

Taranfeather ; 
Why,  he  sot  up  with  me  one  night,  an'  labored 

to  sech  purpose, 
Thet  (ez  an  owl  by  daylight  'mongst  a  flock  o' 

teazin'  chirpers 
Sees  clearer  'n  mud  the  wickedness  o'  eatin'  little 

birds) 

I  see  my  error  an'  agreed  to  shen  it  arterwurds ; 
An'  I  should  say,  (to  jedge  our  folks  by  facs  in 

my  possession,) 
Thet  three  's  Unannermous  where  one  's  a  'Rigi- 

nal  Secession ; 
So  it 's  a  thing  you  fellers  North  may  safely  bet 

your  chink  on, 
Thet  we  're   all  water-proofed  agin  th'  usurpin' 

reign  o'  Lincoln. 

Jeff 's  some.  He  's  gut  another  plan  thet  hez  per- 
tic'lar  merits, 

In  givin'  things  a  cherfle  look  an'  stiffnin'  loose- 
hung  sperits ; 

For  while  your  million  papers,  wut  with  lyin'  an' 
discussin', 


186  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Keep  folks's   tempers  all   on  eend  a-fumin'   an' 

a-fussin', 
A-wondrin'  this   an'  guessin'  thet,   an'   dreadin', 

every  night, 
The  breechin'  o'  the  Univarse  '11  break  afore  it 's 

light, 
Our  papers  don't  purtend  to  print  on'y  wut  Guv- 

ment  choose, 
An'  thet  insures  us   all  to  git  the  very  best  o' 

noose : 
Jeff  hez  it  of  all  sorts  an'  kines,  an'  sarves  it  out 

ez  wanted, 
So  's  't  every  man  gits  wut  he  likes  an'  nobody 

ain't  scanted ; 
Sometimes  it 's  vict'ries,  (they  're  'bout  all  ther' 

is  that 's  cheap  down  here,) 
Sometimes  it 's  France  an'  England  on  the  jump 

to  interfere. 
Fact  is,  the  less  the  people  know  o'  wut  ther'  is 

a-doin', 
The  hendier  't  is  for  Guv'ment,  sence  it  henders 

trouble  brewin' ; 
An'  noose  is  like  a  shinplaster,  —  it 's  good,  ef 

you  believe  it, 
Or,  wut 's  all  same,  the  other  man  thet 's  goin'  to 

receive  it : 
Ef  you  've  a  son  in  th'  army,  wy,  it 's  comfortin' 

to  hear 
He  '11  hev  no  gretter  resk  to  run  than  seein'  th' 

in'my's  rear, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  187 

Coz,  ef  an  F.  F.  looks  at  'em,  they  oilers  break 

an'  run, 
Or  wilt  right  down  ez  debtors  will  thet  stumble 

on  a  dun, 
(An'  this,  ef  an'thin',  proves  the  wuth  o'  proper 

fem'ly  pride, 
Fer  sech  mean   shucks   ez   creditors  are  all  on 

Lincoln's  side  ;) 
Ef  I  hev   scrip   thet  wun't  go  off  no  more  'n  a 

Belgin  rifle, 
An'  read  thet  it 's  at  par  on  'Change,  it  makes 

me  feel  deli'fle ; 
It 's  cheerin',  tu,  where  every  man  mus'  fortify  his 

bed, 
To  hear  thet  Freedom  's  the  one  thing  our  darkies 

mos'ly  dread, 
An'  thet  experunce,  time  'n'  agin,  to  Dixie's  Land 

hez  shown 
Ther'  's  nothin'  like  a  powder-cask  f'r  a  stiddy 

corner-stone  ; 
Ain't  it  ez  good  ez  nuts,  when  salt  is  sellin'  by 

the  ounce 
For  its  own  weight  in  Treash'ry-bons,  (ef  bought 

in  small  amounts,) 
When  even  whiskey  's  gittin'  skurce,  an'  sugar 

can't  be  found, 

To  know  thet  all  the  ellerments  o'  luxury  abound  ? 
An'  don't  it  glorify  sal'-pork,  to  come  to  under 
stand 
It 's  wut  the  Richmon'  editors  call  fatness  o'  the 

land? 


188  THE  BIGLOW   PAPERS. 

Nex'  thing  to  knowin'  you  're  well  off  is  nut  to 

know  when  y'  ain't ; 
An'  ef  Jeff  says  all 's  goin'  wal,  who  '11  ventur' 

t'  say  it  ain't  ? 

This  cairn  the  Constitooshun  roun'  ez  Jeff  doos 

in  his  hat 
Is  hendier  a  dreffle  sight,  an'  comes  more  kin'  o' 

pat. 
I  tell  ye  wut,  my  jedgment  is  you  're  pooty  sure 

to  fail, 
Ez  long  'z  the  head  keeps  turnin'  back  for  counsel 

to  the  tail : 
Th'  advantiges  of  our  consarn  for  bein'  prompt 

air  gret, 
While,  'long  o'  Congress,  you  can't  strike,  'f  you 

git  an  iron  het ; 
They  bother  roun'  with  argooin',  an  var'ous  sorts 

o'  foolin', 
To  make  sure  ef  it 's  leg'lly  het,  an'  all  the  while 

it 's  coolin', 
So  's  't  when  you  come  to  strike,  it  ain't  no  gret 

to  wish  ye  j'y  on, 
An'  hurts  the  hammer  'z  much  or  more  ez  wut  it 

doos  the  iron, 
Jeff  don't  allow  no  jawin'-sprees  for  three  months 

at  a  stretch, 
Knowin'  the  ears  long  speeches  suits  air  mostly 

made  to  metch ; 
He  jes'  ropes  in  your  touguey  chaps  an'  reg'lar 

ten-inch  bores 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  189 

An'  lets  'em  play  at  Congress,  ef  they  '11   du  it 

with  closed  doors ; 
So  they  ain't  no  more  bothersome  than  ef  we  'd 

took  an'  sunk  'em, 
An'  yit  enj'y  th'  exclusive  right  to  one  another's 

Buncombe 
'Thout  doin'  nobody  no  hurt,  an'  'thout  its  costin' 

nothin', 
Their  pay  bein'  jes'  Confedrit  funds,  they  findin' 

keep  an'  clothin' ; 
They  taste  the  sweets  o'  public  life,  an'  plan  their 

little  jobs, 
An'  suck  the  Treash'ry,  (no  gret  harm,  for  it 's  ez 

dry  ez  cobs,) 
An'  go  thru  all  the  motions  jest  ez  safe  ez  in  a 

prison, 
An'  hev  their  business  to  themselves,  while  Bure- 

gard  hez  hisn : 
Ez  long  'z  he  gives  the  Hessians  fits,  committees 

can't  make  bother 
'Bout  whether  't  's  done  the  legle  way  or  whether 

't  's  done  the  t'other. 
An'  /  tell  you  you  've  gut   to  larn  thet  War  ain't 

one  long  teeter 
Betwixt  /  wan'  to  an'  '  T  wurft  du,  debatin'  like 

a  skeetur 
Afore  he  lights,  —  all  is,  to  give  the  other  side  a 

millin'. 
An'  arter  thet's  done,  th'  ain't  no  resk  but  wut  the 

lor  '11  be  willin' ; 


190  THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS. 

No  metter  wut  the  guv'ment  is,  ez  nigh  ez  I  can 

hit  it, 
A  lickin'  's  constitooshunal,  pervidin'  We  don't 

git  it. 
Jeff   don't  stan'  dilly-dallyin',  afore  he   takes  a 

fort, 
(With  no  one  in,)  to  git  the  leave  o'  the  nex' 

Soopreme  Court, 
Nor  don't  want  forty-'leven  weeks  o'  jawin'  an' 

expoundin' 
To  prove  a  nigger  hez  a  right  to  save  him,  ef  he  's 

drowndin' ; 
Whereas  ole  Abrara  'd  sink  afore  he  'd  let  a  darkie 

boost  him, 
Ef  Taney  should  n't  come  along  an'  hed  n't  in- 

terdooced  him. 
It  ain't  your  twenty  millions  thet  '11  ever  block 

Jeff's  game, 
But  one  Man  thet  wun't  let  'em  jog  jest  ez  he  's 

takin'  aim : 
Your  numbers  they  may  strengthen  ye  or  weaken 

ye,  ez  't  heppens 
They  're  willin'  to  be  helpin'  hands  or  wuss'n- 

nothin'  cap'ns. 

I  've  chose  my  side,  an'  't  ain't  no  odds  ef  I  wuz 

drawed  with  magnets, 
Or  ef  I  thought  it  prudenter  to  jine  the  nighes' 

bagnets  ; 
I'  ve  made  my  ch'ice,  an'  ciphered  out,  from  all  I 

see  an'  heard, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  191 

Th'  ole  Constitooshun  never  'd  git  her  decks  for 

action  cleared, 
Long  'z  you  elect  for  Congressmen  poor  shotes 

thet  want  to  go 

Coz  they  can't  seem  to  git  their  grub  no  other- 
ways  than  so, 
An'  let  your  bes'  men  stay  to   home    coz   they 

wun't  show  ez  talkers, 
Nor  can't  be  hired  to  fool  ye  an'  sof '-soap  ye  at  a 

caucus,  — 
Long  'z  ye  set  by  Rotashun  more  'n  ye  do  by 

folks's  merits, 
Ez  though  experunce  thriv  by  change  o'  sile,  like 

corn  an'  kerrits,  — 
Long  'z  you  allow  a  critter's  "  claims  "  coz,  spite 

o'  shoves  an'  tippins, 
He  's  kep'  his  private  pan  jest  where  't  would 

ketch  mos'  public  drippins,  — 
Long  'z  A.  '11  turn  tu  an'  grin'  B.  's  exe,  ef  B.  '11 

help  him  grin'  hisn, 
(An'  thet  's  the  main  idee  by  which  your  leadin' 

men  hev  risen,)  — 
Long  'z  you  let  ary  exe  be  groun',  'less  't  is  to 

cut  the  weasan' 
0'  sneaks  thet  dunno  till  they  're  told  wut  is  an' 

wut  ain't  Treason,  — 
Long  'z  ye  give  out  commissions  to  a  lot  o'  ped- 

dlin'  drones 
Thet  trade  in  whiskey  with  their  men  an'  skin 

'em  to  their  bones,  — 


192  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Long  'z  ye  sift  out  "  safe  "  canderdates  thet  no 
one  ain't  afeared  on 

Coz  they  're  so  thund'rin'  eminent  for  bein'  nev 
er  heard  on, 

An'  hain't  no  record,  ez  it  's  called,  for  folks  to 
pick  a  hole  in, 

Ez  ef  it  hurt  a  man  to  hev  a  body  with  a  soul 
in, 

An'  it  wuz  ostentashun  to  be  showin'  on  't 
about, 

When  half  his  feller-citizens  contrive  to  do  with 
out,  — 

Long  'z  you  suppose  your  votes  can  turn  biled 
kebbage  into  brain, 

An'  ary  man  thet  's  poplar  's  fit  to  drive  a  light- 
nin'-train,  — 

Long  'z  you  believe  democracy  means  /'ra  ez 
good  ez  you  be, 

An'  that  a  feller  from  the  ranks  can't  be  a  knave 
or  booby,  — 

Long  'z  Congress  seems  purvided,  like  yer  street 
cars  an'  yer  'busses, 

With  oilers  room  for  jes'  one  more  o'  your 
spiled-in-bakin'  cusses, 

Dough  'thout  the  emptins  of  a  soul,  an'  yit  with 
means  about  'em 

(Like  essence-peddlers  *)  thet  '11  make  folks  long 
to  be  without  'em, 

*  A  rustic  euphemism  for  the  American  variety  of  the  Me 
phitis,  H.  W. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  193 

Jest  heavy  'nough  to  turn  a  scale  thet  's  doubtfle 

the  wrong  way, 
An'  make    their  nat'ral    arsenal    o'  bein'  nasty 

Pa7»- 
Long  'z  them  things  last,  (an'  /  don't  see  no  gret 

signs  of  improvin',) 
I  sha'  n't  up  stakes,  not  hardly  yit,  nor  't  would 

n't  pay  for  movin'  ; 
For,  'fore  you  lick  us,  it  '11  be  the  long'st  day 

ever  you  see. 
Yourn,  [ez  I  'xpec'  to  be  nex'  spring,] 

B.,  MABKISS  o'  BIG  BOOST. 


No.  IV. 

A  MESSAGE   OF  JEFF   DAVIS   IN   SE 
CRET  SESSION. 

Conjecturally  reported  by  H.  BIGLOW. 

TO   THE   EDITORS    OF   THE    ATLANTIC    MONTHLY. 
JAALAM,  10th  March,  1862. 

GENTLEMEN,  —  My  leisure  has  been  so 
entirely  occupied  with  the  hitherto  fruitless 
endeavor  to  decipher  the  Runic  inscription 
whose  fortunate  discovery  I  mentioned  in 
my  last  communication,  that  I  have  not 
found  time  to  discuss,  as  I  had  intended,  the 
great  problem  of  what  we  are  to  do  with 
slavery,  —  a  topic  on  which  the  public  mind 
in  this  place  is  at  present  more  than  ever 
agitated.  What  my  wishes  and  hopes  are 
I  need  not  say,  but  for  safe  conclusions  I  do 
not  conceive  that  we  are  yet  in  possession 
of  facts  enough  on  which  to  bottom  them 
with  certainty.  Acknowledging  the  hand  of 
Providence,  as  I  do,  in  all  events,  I  am  some 
times  inclined  to  think  that  they  are  wiser 
than  we,  and  am  willing  to  wait  till  we  have 
made  this  continent  once  more  a  place  where 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  195 

freemen  can  live  in  security  and  honor,  before 
assuming  any  further  responsibility.  This  is 
the  view  taken  by  my  neighbor  Habakkuk 
Sloansure,  Esq.,  the  president  of  our  bank, 
whose  opinion  in  the  practical  affairs  of  life 
has  great  weight  with  me,  as  I  have  gener 
ally  found  it  to  be  justified  by  the  event,  and 
whose  counsel,  had  I  followed  it,  would  have 
saved  me  from  an  unfortunate  investment  of 
a  considerable  part  of  the  painful  economies 
of  half  a  century  in  the  Northwest-Passage 
Tunnel.  After  a  somewhat  animated  discus 
sion  with  this  gentleman,  a  few  days  since, 
I  expanded,  on  the  audi  alteram  partem 
principle,  something  which  he  happened  to 
say  by  way  of  illustration,  into  the  following 
fable. 

FESTINA  LENTE. 

ONCE  on  a  time  there  was  a  pool 
Fringed  all  about  with  flag-leaves  cool 
And  spotted  with  cow-lilies  garish, 
Of  frogs  and  pouts  the  ancient  parish. 
Alders  the  creaking  redwings  sink  on, 
Tussocks  that  house  blithe  Bob  o'  Lincoln 
Hedged  round  the  unassailed  seclusion, 
Where  muskrats  piled  their  cells  Carthusian; 
And  many  a  moss-embroidered  log, 
The  watering-place  of  summer  frog, 
Slept  and  decayed  with  patient  skill, 
As  waterinjj-places  sometimes  will. 


196  THE  £  I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

Now  in  this  Abbey  of  Theleme, 
Which  realized  the  fairest  dream 
That  ever  dozing  bull-frog  had, 
Sunned  on  a  half-sunk  lily-pad, 
There  rose  a  party  with  a  mission 
To  mend  the  polliwogs'  condition, 
Who  notified  the  selectmen 
To  call  a  meeting  there  and  then. 
"  Some  kind  of  steps,"  they  said,  "  are  needed  ; 
They  don't  come  on  so  fast  as  we  did  : 
Let 's  dock  their  tails  ;  if  that  don't  make  'em 
Frogs  by  brevet  the  Old  One  take  'em  ! 
That  boy,  that  came  the  other  day 
To  dig  some  flag-root  down  this  way, 
His  jack-knife  left,  and  't  is  a  sign 
That  Heaven  approves  of  our  design : 
'T  were  wicked  not  to  urge  the  step  on, 
When  Providence  has  sent  the  weapon." 

Old  croakers,  deacons  of  the  mire, 
That  led  the  deep  batrachian  choir, 
Uk  I  Uk  !  Caronk  !  with  bass  that  might 
Have  left  Lablache's  out  of  sight, 
Shook  nobby  heads,  and  said,  "  No  go  ! 
You  'd  better  let  'em  try  to  grow  : 
Old  Doctor  Time  is  slow,  but  still 
He  does  know  how  to  make  a  pill." 

But  vain  was  all  their  hoarsest  bass, 
Their  old  experience  out  of  place, 
And  spite  of  croaking  and  entreating, 
The  vote  was  carried  in  marsh-meeting. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  197 

"  Lord  knows,"  protest  the  polliwogs, 
"  We  're  anxious  to  be  grown-up  frogs  ; 
But  do  not  undertake  the  work 
Of  Nature  till  she  prove  a  shirk  ; 
'T  is  not  by  jumps  that  she  advances, 
But  wins  her  way  by  circumstances  : 
Pray,  wait  awhile,  until  you  know 
We  're  so  contrived  as  not  to  grow  ; 
Let  Nature  take  her  own  direction, 
And  she  '11  absorb  our  imperfection  ; 
You  might  n't  like  'em  to  appear  with, 
But  we  must  have  the  things  to  steer  with." 

"  No,"  piped  the  party  of  reform, 
"  All  great  results  are  ta'en  by  storm  ; 
Fate  holds  her  best  gifts  till  we  show 
We  've  strength  to  make  her  let  them  go  ; 
The  Providence  that  works  in  history, 
And  seems  to  some  folks  such  a  mystery, 
Does  not  creep  slowly  on  incog., 
But  moves  by  jumps,  a  mighty  frog; 
No  more  reject  the  Age's  chrism, 
Your  queues  are  an  anachronism  ; 
No  more  the  Future's  promise  mock, 
But  lay  your  tails  upon  the  block, 
Thankful  that  we  the  means  have  voted 
To  have  you  thus  to  frogs  promoted." 

The  thing  was  done,  the  tails  Avere  cropped, 

And  home  each  philotadpole  hopped, 

In  faith  rewarded  to  exult, 

And  wait  the  beautiful  result. 

Too  soon  it  came  ;  our  pool,  so  long 

The  theme  of  patriot  bull-frog's  song, 


198  TEE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Next  day  was  reeking,  fit  to  smother, 
With  heads  and  tails  that  missed  each  other,  — 
Here  snoutless  tails,  there  tailless  snouts  : 
The  only  gainers  Avere  the  pouts. 

MORAL. 

From  lower  to  the  higher  next, 
Not  to  the  top,  is  Nature's  text  ; 
And  embryo  Good,  to  reach  full  stature, 
Absorbs  the  Evil  in  its  nature. 

I  think  that  nothing  will  ever  give  per 
manent  peace  and  security  to  this  continent 
but  the  extirpation  of  Slavery  therefrom, 
and  that  the  occasion  is  nigh  ;  but  I  would 
do  nothing  hastily  or  vindictively,  nor  pre 
sume  to  jog  the  elbow  of  Providence.  No 
desperate  measures  for  me  till  we  are  sure 
that  all  others  are  hopeless,  — fleeter e  si  ne- 
queo  SUPEROS,  Acheronta  movebo.  To  make 
Emancipation  a  reform  instead  of  a  revolu 
tion  is  worth  a  little  patience,  that  we  may 
have  the  Border  States  first,  and  then  the 
non-slaveholders  of  the  Cotton  States,  with 
us  in  principle,  —  a  consummation  that 
seems  to  be  nearer  than  many  imagine. 
Fiat  justitia,  mat  ccelum,  is  not  to  be  taken 
in  a  literal  sense  by  statesmen,  whose  prob 
lem  is  to  get  justice  done  with  as  little  jar 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  199 

as  possible  to  existing  order,  which  has  at 
least  so  much  of  heaven  in  it  that  it  is  not 
chaos.  Our  first  duty  toward  our  enslaved 
brother  is  to  educate  him,  whether  he  be 
white  or  black.  The  first  need  of  the  free 
black  is  to  elevate  himself  according  to  the 
standard  of  this  material  generation.  So 
soon  as  the  Ethiopian  goes  in  his  chariot,  he 
will  find  not  only  Apostles,  but  Chief  Priests 
and  Scribes  and  Pharisees  willing  to  ride 
with  him. 

Nil  habct  infelix  paupertas  durius  in  se 
Quam  quod  ridiculos  homines  facit. 

I  rejoice  in  the  President's  late  Message, 
which  at  last  proclaims  the  Government  on 
the  side  of  freedom,  justice,  and  sound  pol 
icy. 

As  I  write,  comes  the  news  of  our  disaster 
at  Hampton  Roads.  I  do  not  understand 
the  supineness  which,  after  fair  warning, 
leaves  wood  to  an  unequal  conflict  with  iron. 
It  is  not  enough  merely  to  have  the  right  on 
our  side,  if  we  stick  to  the  old  flint-lock  of 
tradition.  I  have  observed  in  my  parochial 
experience  (hand  ignarus  mail)  that  the 
Devil  is  prompt  to  adopt  the  latest  inven 
tions  of  destructive  warfare,  and  rnay  thus 
take  even  such  a  three-decker  as  Bishop 


200  TEE  £  I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

Butler  at  an  advantage.  It  is  curious,  that, 
as  gunpowder  made  armor  useless  on  shore, 
so  armor  is  having  its  revenge  by  baffling 
its  old  enemy  at  sea,  —  and  that,  while  gun 
powder  robbed  land  warfare  of  nearly  all  its 
picturesqueness  to  give  even  greater  state- 
liness  and  sublimity  to  a  sea-fight,  armor 
bids  fair  to  degrade  the  latter  into  a  squab 
ble  between  two  iron-shelled  turtles. 

Yours,  with  esteem  and  respect, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.  M. 

P.  S.  —  I  had  wellnigh  forgotten  to  say 
that  the  object  of  this  letter  is  to  enclose  a 
communication  from  the  gifted  pen  of  Mr. 
Bialow. 


you  a  messige,  my  friens,  t'  other  day, 
To  tell  you  I  'd  nothin'  pertickler  to  say  : 
'T  \vuz  the  day  our  new  nation  gut  kin'  o'  still 
born, 
So  't  wuz  my  pleasant  dooty  t'  acknowledge  the 

corn, 

An'  I  see  clearly  then,  ef  I  did  n't  before, 
Thet  the  augur  in  inauguration  means  bore. 
I  need  n't  tell  you  thet  my  messige  wuz  written 
To  diffuse    correc'  notions  in  France   an'  Gret 

Britten, 

An'  agin  to  impress  on  the  poppylar  mind 
The  comfort  an'  wisdom  o'  goin'  it  blind,  — 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  201 

To  say  thet  I  did  n't  abate  not  a  hooter 

O'  my  faith  in  a  happy  an'  glorious  futur', 

Ez  rich  in  each  soshle  an'  p'litickle  blessin' 

Ez  them  thet  we  now  hed  the  joy  o'  possessing 

With  a  people  united,  an'  longin'  to  die 

For  wut  we  call  their  country,   without  askin' 

why, 

An'  all  the  gret  things  we  concluded  to  slope  for 
Ez  much  within  reach  now  ez  ever  —  to  hope  for. 
We  've  gut  all  the  ellerments,  this  very  hour, 
Thet  make  up  a  fus'-  class,  self-governin'  power  : 
We  've  a  war,  an'  a  debt,  an'  a  flag ;  an'  ef  this 
Ain't  to  be  inderpendimt,  why,  wut  on  airth  is  ? 
An'  nothin'  now  henders  our  takin'  our  station 
Ez  the  freest,  enlightenedest,  civerlized  nation, 
Built  up  on  our  bran'-new  politickle  thesis 
Thet  a  Gov'ment's  fust   right  is  to    tumble   to 

pieces,  — 

I  say  nothin'  henders  our  takin  our  place 
Ez  the  very  fus'-best  o'  the  whole  human  race, 
A  spittin'  tobacker  ez  proud  ez  you  please 
On  Victory's  bes'  carpets,  or  loafin'  at  ease 
In  the  Tool'ries  front-parlor,  discussin'  affairs 
With  our  heels  on  the  backs  o'  Napoleon's  new 

chairs, 

An'  princes  a-mixin'  our  cocktails  an'  slings,  — 
Excep',  wal,  excep'  jest  a  very  few  things, 
Sech  ez  navies  an'  armies  an'  wherewith  to  pay, 
An'  gittin'  our  sogers  to  run  t'  other  way, 
An'  not  be  too  over-pertickler  in  tryin' 
To  hunt  up  the  very  las'  ditches  to  die  in. 


202  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

Ther'  are  critters  so  base  thet  they  want  it  ex 
plained 

Jes'  wut  is  the  totle  amount  thet  we  've  gained, 
Ez  ef  we  could  maysure  stupenjious  events 
By  the  low  Yankee  stan'ard  o'  dollars  an'  cents : 
They  seem  to  f  orgit,  thet,  sence  last  year  revolved, 
We  've  succeeded  in  gittin  seceshed  an'  dissolved, 
An'  thet  no  one  can't  hope  to  git  thru  dissolootion 
'Thout  some  kin'  o'  strain  on  the  best  Constitoo- 

tion. 

Who  asks  for  a  prospec'  more  flettrin'  an'  bright, 
When  from  here  clean  to  Texas  it 's  all  one  free 

fight? 
Hain't  we  rescued  from  Seward  the  gret  leadin' 

featurs 
Thet  makes  it  wuth  while  to  be  reasonin'  crea- 

turs? 
Hain't  we  saved  Habus  Coppers,  improved  it  in 

fact, 

By  suspendin'  the  Unionists  'stid  o'  the  Act? 
Ain't  the  laws  free  to  all  ?     Where  on  airth  else 

d'  ye  see 

Every  freeman  improvin  his  own  rope  an'  tree  ? 
Ain't  our  piety  sech   (in  our  speeches  an'  mes- 

siges) 
Ez  t'  astonish  ourselves  in  the  bes'-  composed  pes- 

siges, 
An'  to  make  folks  that  knowed  us  in  th'  ole  state 

o'  things 
Think  convarsion  ez  easy  ez  drinkin'  gin-slings  ? 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  203 

It  's  ne'sfeary  to  take  a  good  confident  tone 
With  the  public  ;  but  here,  jest  amongst  us,  I  own 
Things  look  blacker  'n  thunder.     Ther'  's  no  use 

denyin' 
We  're   clean   out   o'    money,  an'    'most   out   o' 


Two  things  a  young  nation  can't  mennage  with 

out, 

Ef  she  wants  to  look  wal  at  her  fust  comin'  out  ; 
For  the  fust  supplies  physickle  strength,  while  the 

second 
Gives  a  morril  advantage  thet  's  hard  to  be  reck 

oned  : 

For  this  latter  I  'm  willin'  to  du  wut  I  can  ; 
For  the  former  you  '11  hev  to  consult  on  a  plan,  — 
Though  our  fust  want  (an'  this  pint  I  want  your 

best  views  on) 

Is  plausible  paper  to  print  I.  0.  U.s  on. 
Some    gennlemen    think  it  would   cure   all   our 

cankers 
In    the  way  o'   finance,  ef  we  jes'  hanged   the 

bankers  ; 

An'  I  own  the  proposle  'ud  square  with  my  views, 
Ef  their  lives  wuz  n't  all  thet  we  'd  left  'em  to 

lose. 

Some  say  thet  more  confidence  might  be  inspired, 
Ef  we  voted  our  cities  an'  towns  to  be  fired,  — 
A  plan  thet  'ud  suttenly  tax  our  endurance, 
Coz  't  would  be  our  own  bills  we  should  git  for 

th'  insurance  : 


204  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

But  cinders,  no  metter  how  sacred  we  think  'em, 
Might  n't  strike  furrin  minds  ez  good  sources  of 

income, 

Nor  the  people,  perhaps,  would  n't  like  the  eclaw 
0'  hein'  all  turned  into  paytriots  by  law. 
Some  want  we  should  buy  all  the  cotton  an'  burn 

it, 
On  a  pledge,  when  we  've  gut  thru  the  war,  to 

return  it,  — 
Then  to   take  the   proceeds    an'    hold    them   ez 

security 

For  an  issue  o'  bonds  to  be  met  at  maturity 
With  an  issue  o'  notes  to  be  paid  in  hard  cash 
On  the  fus'   Monday    follerin'   the   'tarnal  All- 
smash  : 

This  hez  a  safe  air,  an',  once  hold  o'  the  gold, 
'Ud  leave  our  vile  plunderers  out  in  the  cold, 
An'  might  temp'  John  Bull,  ef  it  warn't  for  the 

dip  he 

Once  gut  from  the  banks  o'  my  own  Massissippi. 
Some  think  we    could   make,   by  arrangin'  the 

figgers, 

A  hendy  home-currency  out  of  our  niggers  ; 
But  it  won't  du  to  lean  much  on  ary  sech  staff, 
For  they  're  gittin'  tu  current  a'ready,  by  half. 
One  gennleman  says,  ef  we  lef '  our  loan  out 
Where  Floyd  could  git  hold  on 't,  he  'd  take  it,  no 

doubt ; 
But  't  ain't  jes'  the  takin',  though  't  hez  a  good 

look, 


THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS.  205 

We  mus'  git  sunthin'  out  on  it  arter  it 's  took, 
An'  we  need  now  more  'n  ever,  with  sorrer  I  own, 
Thet  some  one  another  should  let  us  a  loan, 
Sence  a  soger  wun't  fight,  on'y  jes'  while  he  draws 

his 

Pay  down  on  the  nail,  for  the  best  of  all  causes, 
'Thout  askin'  to  know  wut  the  quarrel 's  about,  — 
An'  once  come  to  thet,  why,  our  game  is  played 

out. 
It  's  ez  true  ez  though  I  should  n't  never  hev  said 

it 
Thet   a   hitch   hez  took  place  in  our  system  o' 

credit ; 
I  swear  it  's  all  right  in  my   speeches  an'  mes- 

siges, 
But  ther'  's  idees  afloat,  ez  ther'   is   about  ses- 

siges  : 

Folks  wun't  take  a  bond  ez  a  basis  to  trade  on, 
Without  nosin'  round  to  find  out  wut  it  's  made 

on, 
An'  the  thought  more  an'  more  thru  the  public 

min'  crosses 
Thet  our  Treshry  hez  gut  'mos'  too  many  dead 

bosses. 

Wut  's  called  credit,  you  see,  is  some  like  a  bal 
loon, 
Thet  looks  while  it  's  up  'most  ez  harnsome  'z  a 

moon, 

But  once  git  a  leak  in  't  an'  wut  looked  so  grand 
Caves  righ'  down  in  a  jiffy  ez  flat  ez  your  hand. 


206  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Now  the  world  is  a  dreffle  mean   place,  for  our 

sins, 

"Where  ther'  ollus  is  critters  about  with  long  pins 
A-prickin'  the  bubbles  we  've  blowed  with  sech 

care, 

An'  provin'  ther'  's  nothin'  inside  but  bad  air  : 
They  're  all  Stuart  Millses,  poor-white  trash,  an' 

sneaks, 
Without   no   more   chivverlry    'n    Choctaws    or 

Creeks, 

Who  thinks  a  real  gennleman's  promise  to  pay 
Is  meant  to  be  took  in  trade's  ornery  way  : 
Them  fellers  an'  I  could  n'  never  agree  ; 
They  're  the  nateral  foes  o'  the  Southun  Idee  ; 
I  'd  gladly  take  all  of  our  other  resks  on  me 
To  be  red  o'  this  low-lived  politikle  'con'my ! 

Now  a  dastardly  notion  is  gittin'  about 

Thet  our  bladder  is  bust  an'  the  gas  oozin'  out, 

An'  onless  we  can  mennage  in  some  way  to  stop 

it, 
Why,  the  thing  "s  a  gone  coon,  an'  we  might  ez 

wal  drop  it. 

Brag  works  wal  at  fust,  but  it  ain't  jes'  the  thing 
For  a  stiddy  inves'ment  the  shiners  to  bring, 
An'  votin'    we   're   prosp'rous  a  hundred  times 

over 

Wun't  change  bein  starved  into  livin'  on  clover. 
Manassas  done  sunthin'  tow'rds  drawin'  the  wool 
O'er  the  green,  anti-slavery  eyes  o'  John  Bull : 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  207 

Oh,  wdr  n't  it  a  godsend,  jes'  when  sech  tight 

fixes 
Wuz    crowdin'    us   mourners,   to    throw   double- 


sixes 


I  wuz  tempted  to  think,  an'  it  wuz  n't  no  wonder, 
Ther'   wuz    reelly    a  Providence,  —  over  or  un 
der,  — 

When,    all   packed   for  Nashville,   I   fust  ascer 
tained 
From  the  papers  up  North  wut  a  victory  we  'd 

gained. 

'T  wuz  the  time  for  diffusin'  correc'  views  abroad 
Of  our  union  an'  strength  an'  relyin'  on  God  ; 
An',  fact,  when  I  'd  gut  thru  my  fust  big  surprise, 
I  much  ez  half  b'lieved  in  my  own  tallest  lies, 
An'  conveyed  the  idee  thet  the  whole  Southun 

popperlace 
Wuz  Spartans  all  on  the  keen  jump  for  Ther- 

mopperlies, 

Thet  set  on  the  Lincolnites'  bombs  till  they  bust, 
An'  fight  for  the  priv'lege  o'  clyin'  the  fust ; 
But  Roanoke,  Bufort,  Millspring,  an'  the  rest 
Of  our  recent  starn-foremost  successes  out  West, 
Hain't  left  us  a  foot  for  our  swellin'   to  stand 

on, — 
We  've  showed  too  much  o'  wut  Buregard  calls 

abandon, 

For  all  our  Thermopperlies  (an'  it  's  a  marcy 
We   hain't   hed  no  more)   hev  ben   clean   vicy- 
varsy, 


208  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

An'  \vut  Spartans  wuz  lef  when  the  battle  wuz 

done 
Wuz  them  thet  wuz  too  unambitious  to  run. 

Oh,  ef  we  hed  on'y  jes'  gut  Reecognition, 

Things  now  would  ha'  ben  in  a  different  position  ! 

You  'd  ha'  hed  all  you  wanted  :  the  paper  block 
ade 

Smashed  up  into  toothpicks,  —  unlimited  trade 

In  the  one  thing  thet 's  needfle,  till  niggers,  I 
swow, 

Hed  ben  thicker  'n  provisional  shinplasters 
now,  — 

Quinine  by  the  ton  'ginst  the  shakes  when  they 
seize  ye,  — 

Nice  paper  to  coin  into  C.  S.  A.  specie ; 

The  voice  of  the  driver  'd  be  heerd  in  our  land, 

An'  the  univarse  scringe,  ef  we  lifted  our  hand : 

Would  n't  thet  be  some  like  a  fulfillin'  the  proph 
ecies, 

With  all  the  fus'  fem'lies  in  all  the  fust  offices  ? 

'T  wuz  a  beautiful  dream,  an'  all  sorrer  is  idle,  — 

But  ef  Lincoln  would  ha'  hanged  Mason  an' 
Slidell! 

For  would  n't  the  Yankees  hev  found  they  'd 
ketched  Tartars, 

Ef  they  'd  raised  two  sech  critters  as  them  into 
martyrs  ? 

Mason  wuz  F.  F.  V.,  though  a  cheap  card  to  win 
on, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  209 

But  tother  was  jes'  New  York  trash  to  begin  on ; 

They  ain't  o'  no  good  in  European  pellices, 

But  think  wut  a  help  they  'd  ha'  ben  on  their  gal 
lowses  ! 

They  'd  ha'  felt  they  wuz  truly  fulfillin'  their  mis 
sion, 

An'  oh  how  dog-cheap  we  'd  ha'  gut  Reecogni- 
tion  ! 

But  somehow  another,  wutever  we  've  tried, 
Though  the  the'ry   's  fust-rate,   the  facs  wun't 

coincide : 
Facs  are  contrary  'z  mules,  an'  ez  hard  in  the 

mouth, 
An'  they  allus  hev  showed  a  mean  spite  to  the 

South. 

Sech  bein'  the  case,  we  hed  best  look  about 
For  some  kin'  o'  way  to  slip  our  necks  out : 
Le'  's  vote  our  las'  dollar,  ef  one  can  be  found, 
(An',  at  any  rate,  votin'  it  hez  a  good  sound,)  — 
Le'  's  sware  thet  to  arms  all  our  people  is  flyin', 
(The   critters   can't  read,  an'  wun't  know  how 

we  're  lyin',)  — 

Thet  Toombs  is  advancin'  to  sack  Cincinnater, 
With  a  rovin'  commission  to  pillage  an'  slahter,  — 
Thet  we  've  throwed  to  the  winds  all  regard  for 

wut  's  lawfle, 

An'  gone  in  for  sunthin'  promiscu'sly  awfle. 
Ye  see,  hitherto,  it  's  our  own  knaves  an'  fools 
Thet   we   've    used,   (those   for   whetstones,    an' 

t'  others  ez  tools,) 


210  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

An'  now  our  las'  chance  is  in  puttin'  to  test 
The  same  kin'  o'  cattle  up  North  an'  out  West,  — 
Your    Belmonts,    Vallandighams,    AVoodses,   an' 

sech, 

-Poor  shotes  thet  ye  could  n't  persuade  us  to  tech, 
Not  in  ornery  times,   though  we  're  willin'  to 

feed  'em 
With   a  nod   now  an'  then,  when  we  happen  to 

need  'em  ; 
Why,  for  my  part,  I  'd  ruther  shake  hands  with 

a  nigger 
Than  with  cusses  that  load  an'  don't  darst  dror  a 

trigger  ; 
They  're  the  wust  wooden  nutmegs  the  Yankees 

produce, 
Shaky   everywheres  else,   an'  jes'  sound  on  the 

goose ; 

They  ain't  wuth  a  cus,  an'  I   set  nothin'  by  'em, 
But  we  're  in  sech  a  fix  thet  I  s'pose  we  mus'  try 

'em. 
I —     But,    Gennlemen,    here  's    a  dispatch   jes' 

come  in 
Which   shows    thet   the    tide    's   begun    turnin' 

agin,  — 

Gret  Cornfedrit  success  !    C'lumbus  eevacooated  ! 
I   mus'   run   down   an'  hev  the    thing   properly 

stated, 

An'  show  wut  a  triumph  it  is,  an'  how  lucky 
To  fin'lly  git  red  o'  thet  cussed  Kentucky,  — 
An'  how,  sence   Fort   Donelson,  winnin'  the  day 
Consists  in  triumphantly  gittin'  away. 


No.  V. 

SPEECH  OF  HONORABLE  PRESERVED 
DOE  IN  SECRET  CAUCUS. 

TO    THE    EDITORS     OF     THE    ATLANTIC    MONTHLY. 
JAALAM,  12th   April,  1862. 

GENTLEMEN,  —  As  I  cannot  but  hope  that 
the  ultimate,  if  not  speedy,  success  of  the 
national  arms  is  now  sufficiently  ascertained, 
sure  as  I  am  of  the  righteousness  of  our 
cause  and  its  consequent  claim  on  the  bless 
ing  of  God,  (for  I  would  not  show  a  faith 
inferior  to  that  of  the  pagan  historian  with 
his  Facile  evenit  quod  Dis  cordi  es£,)  it 
seems  to  me  a  suitable  occasion  to  withdraw 
our  minds  a  moment  from  the  confusing  din 
of  battle  to  objects  of  peaceful  and  perma 
nent  interest.  Let  us  not  neglect  the  mon 
uments  of  preterite  history  because  what 
shall  be  history  is  so  diligently  making  un 
der  our  eyes.  Cras  ingens  iterabimus 
cequor  ;  to-morrow  will  be  time  enough  for 
that  stormy  sea ;  to-day  let  me  engage  the 
attention  of  your  readers  with  the  Kunic 


212  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

inscription  to  whose  fortunate  discovery  I 
have  heretofore  alluded.  Well  may  we  say 
with  the  poet,  Multa  renascuntur  quce  jam 
cecidere.  And  I  would  premise,  that,  al 
though  I  can  no  longer  resist  the  evidence 
of  my  own  senses  from  the  stone  before  me 
to  the  ante-Columbian  discovery  of  this  con 
tinent  by  the  Northmen,  gens  inclytissima, 
as  they  are  called  in  a  Palermitan  inscrip 
tion,  written  fortunately  in  a  less  debatable 
character  than  that  which  I  am  about  to  de 
cipher,  yet  I  would  by  no  means  be  under 
stood  as  wishing  to  vilipend  the  merits  of 
the  great  Genoese,  whose  name  will  never  be 
forgotten  so  long  as  the  inspiring  strains  of 
"  Hail  Columbia  "  shall  continue  to  be  heard. 
Though  he  must  be  stripped  also  of  what 
ever  praise  may  belong  to  the  experiment  of 
the  egg,  which  I  find  proverbially  attributed 
by  Castilian  authors  to  a  certain  Juanito  or 
Jack,  (perhaps  an  offshoot  of  our  giant-kill 
ing  mythus,)  his  name  will  still  remain  one 
of  the  most  illustrious  of  modern  times. 
But  the  impartial  historian  owes  a  duty  like 
wise  to  obscure  merit,  and  my  solicitude  to 
render  a  tardy  justice  is  perhaps  quickened 
by  my  having  known  those  who,  had  their 
own  field  of  labor  been  less  secluded, 


THE   BIGLOW  PAPERS.  213 

might  have  found  a  readier  acceptance  with 
the  reading  public.  I  could  give  an  exam 
ple,  but  I  forbear  :  forsitan  nostris  ex  ossi- 
bus  oritur  ultor. 

Touching  Runic  inscriptions,  I  find  that 
they  may  be  classed  under  three  general 
heads  :  1°.  Those  which  are  understood  by 
the  Danish  Royal  Society  of  Northern  Anti 
quaries,  and  Professor  Raf n,  their  secretary  ; 
2°.  Those  which  are  comprehensible  only  by 
Mr.  Rafn  ;  and  3°.  Those  which  neither  the 
Society,  Mr.  Rafn,  nor  anybody  else  can  be 
said  in  any  definite  sense  to  understand,  and 
which  accordingly  offer  peculiar  temptations 
to  enucleating  sagacity.  These  last  are  nat 
urally  deemed  the  most  valuable  by  intel 
ligent  antiquaries,  and  to  this  class  the  stone 
now  in  my  possession  fortunately  belongs. 
Such  give  a  picturesque  variety  to  ancient 
events,  because  susceptible  oftentimes  of  as 
many  interpretations  as  there  are  individual 
archaeologists ;  and  since  facts  are  only  the 
pulp  in  which  the  Idea  or  event-seed  is  softly 
imbedded  till  it  ripen,  it  is  of  little  conse 
quence  what  color  or  flavor  we  attribute  to 
them,  provided  it  be  agreeable.  Availing 
myself  of  the  obliging  assistance  of  Mr. 
Arphaxad  Bowers,  an  ingenious  photogra- 


214  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

phic  artist,  whose  house-on-wheels  has  now 
stood  for  three  years  on  our  Meeting-House 
Green,  with  the  somewhat  contradictory  in 
scription,  —  " our  motto  is  onward"  —  I 
have  sent  accurate  copies  of  my  treasure  to 
many  learned  men  and  societies,  both  native 
and  European.  I  may  hereafter  communi 
cate  their  different  and  (rne  judice)  equally 
erroneous  solutions.  I  solicit  also,  Messrs. 
Editors,  your  own  acceptance  of  the  copy 
herewith  inclosed.  I  need  only  promise 
further,  that  the  stone  itself  is  a  goodly 
block  of  metamorphic  sandstone,  and  that 
the  Runes  resemble  very  nearly  the  orni- 
thichnites  or  fossil  bird-tracks  of  Dr.  Hitch 
cock,  but  with  less  regularity  or  apparent 
design  than  is  displayed  by  those  remarkable 
geological  monuments.  These  are  rather 
the  non  bene  junctarum  discordia  semina 
rerum.  Resolved  to  leave  no  door  open  to 
cavil,  I  first  of  all  attempted  the  elucidation 
of  this  remarkable  example  of  lithic  litera 
ture  by  the  ordinary  modes,  but  with  no 
adequate  return  for  my  labor.  I  then  con 
sidered  myself  amply  justified  in  resorting 
to  that  heroic  treatment  the  felicity  of 
which,  as  applied  by  the  great  Beutley  to 
Milton,  had  long  ago  enlisted  my  admira- 


THE  RIGLOW  PAPERS.  215 

tion.  Indeed,  I  had  already  made  up  my 
mind,  that,  in  case  good-fortune  should  throw 
any  such  invaluable  record  in  my  way,  I 
would  proceed  with  it  in  the  following  simple 
and  satisfactory  method.  After  a  cursory 
examination,  merely  sufficing  for  an  ap 
proximative  estimate  of  its  length,  I  would 
write  down  a  hypothetical  inscription  based 
upon  antecedent  probabilities,  and  then  pro 
ceed  to  extract  from  the  characters  engraven 
on  the  stone  a  meaning  as  nearly  as  possible 
conformed  to  this  a  priori  product  of  my 
own  ingenuity.  The  result  more  than  justi 
fied  my  hopes,  inasmuch  as  the  two  inscrip 
tions  were  made  without  any  great  violence 
to  tally  in  all  essential  particulars.  I  then 
proceeded,  not  without  some  anxiety,  to  my 
second  test,  which  was,  to  read  the  Runic 
letters  diagonally,  and  again  with  the  same 
success.  With  an  excitement  pardonable 
under  the  circumstances,  yet  tempered  with 
thankful  humility,  I  now  applied  my  last 
and  severest  trial,  my  experimentum  crucis. 
I  turned  the  stone,  now  doubly  precious  in 
my  eyes,  with  scrupulous  exactness  upside 
down.  The  physical  exertion  so  far  dis 
placed  my  spectacles  as  to  derange  for  a 
moment  the  focus  of  vision.  I  confess  that 


216  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

it  was  with  some  tremulousness  that  I  read 
justed  them  upon  my  nose,  and  prepared  my 
mind  to  bear  with  calmness  any  disappoint 
ment  that  might  ensue.  But,  O  albo  dies 
notanda  lapillo !  what  was  my  delight  to 
find  that  the  change  of  position  had  effected 
none  in  the  sense  of  the  writing,  even  by  so 
much  as  a  single  letter !  I  was  now,  and 
justly,  as  I  think,  satisfied  of  the  conscien 
tious  exactness  of  my  interpretation.  It  is 
as  follows :  — 

HEBE 

BJARNA    GRIMOLFSSON 

FIRST    DRANK    CLOUD-BROTHER 

THROUGH   CHILD-OF-LASTD-AJSTD-WATER  : 

that  is,  drew  smoke  through  a  reed  stem.  In 
other  words,  we  have  here  a  record  of  the 
first  smoking  of  the  herb  Nicotiana  Ta- 
bacum  by  an  European  on  this  continent. 
The  probable  results  of  this  discovery  are 
so  vast  as  to  baffle  conjecture.  If  it  be  ob 
jected,  that  the  smoking  of  a  pipe  would 
hardly  justify  the  setting  up  of  a  memorial 
stone,  I  answer,  that  even  now  the  Moquis 
Indian,  ere  he  takes  his  first  whiff,  bows 
reverently  toward  the  four  quarters  of  the 
sky  in  succession,  and  that  the  loftiest  monu 
ments  have  been  reared  to  perpetuate  fame, 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  217 

which  is  the  dream  of  the  shadow  of  smoke. 
The  Saga,  it  will  be  remembered,  leaves  this 
Bjarna  to  a  fate  something  like  that  of  Sir 
Humphrey  Gilbert  on  board  a  sinking  ship 
in  the  "  wormy  sea,"  having  generously  given 
up  his  place  in  the  boat  to  a  certain  Ice 
lander.  It  is  doubly  pleasant,  therefore,  to 
meet  with  this  proof  that  the  brave  old  man 
arrived  safely  in  Vinland,  and  that  his  de 
clining  years  were  cheered  by  the  respect 
ful  attentions  of  the  dusky  denizens  of  our 
then  uninvaded  forests.  Most  of  all  was  I 
gratified,  however,  in  thus  linking  forever 
the  name  of  my  native  town  with  one  of 
the  most  momentous  occurrences  of  modern 
times.  Hitherto  Jaalam,  though  in  soil, 
climate,  and  geographical  position  as  highly 
qualified  to  be  the  theatre  of  remarkable 
historical  incidents  as  any  spot  on  the  earth's 
surface,  has  been,  if  I  may  say  it  without 
seeming  to  question  the  wisdom  of  Provi 
dence,  almost  maliciously  neglected,  as  it 
might  appear,  by  occurrences  of  world-wide 
interest  in  want  of  a  situation.  And  in  mat 
ters  of  this  nature  it  must  be  confessed  that 
adequate  events  are  as  necessary  as  the  rates 
sacer  to  record  them.  Jaalam  stood  always 
modestly  ready,  but  circumstances  made  no 


218  THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS. 

fitting  response  to  her  generous  intentions. 
Now,  however,  she  assumes  her  place  on  the 
historic  roll.  I  have  hitherto  been  a  zeal 
ous  opponent  of  the  Circean  herb,  but  I 
shall  now  reexamine  the  question  without 
bias. 

I  am  aware  that  the  Kev.  Jonas  Tutchel, 
in  a  recent  communication  to  the  Bogus 
Four  Corners  Weekly  Meridian,  has  endeav 
ored  to  show  that  this  is  the  sepulchral  in 
scription  of  Thorwald  Eriksson,  who,  as  is 
well  known,  was  slain  in  Vinland  by  the 
natives.  But  I  think  he  has  been  misled  by 
a  preconceived  theory,  and  cannot  but  feel 
that  he  has  thus  made  an  ungracious  return 
for  my  allowing  him  to  inspect  the  stone  with 
the  aid  of  my  own  glasses  (he  having  by  acci 
dent  left  his  at  home)  and  in  my  own  study. 
The  heathen  ancients  might  have  instructed 
this  Christian  minister  in  the  rites  of  hospi 
tality  ;  but  much  is  to  be  pardoned  to  the 
spirit  of  self-love.  He  must  indeed  be  ingen 
ious  who  can  make  out  the  words  her  hv'ilir 
from  any  characters  in  the  inscription  in 
question,  which,  whatever  else  it  may  be,  is 
certainly  not  mortuary.  And  even  should  the 
reverend  gentleman  succeed  in  persuading 
some  fantastical  wits  of  the  soundness  of  his 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  219 

views,  I  do  not  see  what  useful  end  he  will 
have  gained.  For  if  the  English  Courts  of 
Law  hold  the  testimony  of  grave-stones  from 
the  burial-grounds  of  Protestant  dissenters  to 
be  questionable,  even  where  it  is  essential  in 
proving  a  descent,  I  cannot  conceive  that  the 
epitaphial  assertions  of  heathens  should  be 
esteemed  of  more  authority  by  any  man  of 
orthodox  sentiments. 

At  this  moment,  happening  to  cast  my  eyes 
upon  the  stone,  on  which  a  transverse  light 
from  my  southern  window  brings  out  the 
characters  with  singular  distinctness,  another 
interpretation  has  occurred  to  me,  promising 
even  more  interesting  results.  I  hasten  to 
close  my  letter  in  order  to  follow  at  once  the 
clew  thus  providentially  suggested. 

I  inclose  as  usual  a  contribution  from  Mr. 
Biglow  and  remain, 

Gentlemen,  with  esteem  and  respect, 
Your  Obedient  Humble  Servant, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.  M. 


I  THANK  ye,  my  friens,  for  the  warmth  o'  your 

greetin' : 
Ther'  's  few  airthly  blessins  but  wut  's  vain  an' 

fleetin' ; 


220  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

But  ef  ther'  is  one  thet  hain't  no  cracks  an'  flaws, 
An'  is  wuth  goin'  in  for,  it  's  pop'lar  applause  ; 
It  sends  up  the  sperits  ez  lively  ez  rockets, 
An'  I  feel  it  —  wal,   down  to  the   eend  o'  my 

pockets. 

Jes'  lovin'  the  people  is  Canaan  in  view, 
But  it  's  Canaan  paid  quarterly  t'  hev  'em  love 

you; 
It  's  a  blessin'  thet  's  breakin'  out  ollus  in  fresh 

spots ; 

It  's  a-follerin'  Moses  'thout  losin'  the  flesh-pots. 
But,   Gennlemen,   'scuse  me,  I  ain't  such  a  raw 

cus 

Ez  to  go  luggin'  ellerkence  into  a  caucus,  — 
Thet  is,  into  one  where  the  call  comprehends 
Nut  the  People  in  person,  but  on'y  their  friends  ; 
I  'm  so  kin'  o'  used  to  convincin'  the  masses 
Of  th'  edvantage  o'  bein'  self-governin'  asses, 
I  forgut  thet  we  're  all  o'  the  sort  thet  pull  wires 
An'  arrange  for  the  public  their  wants  an'  desires, 
An'  thet  wut  we  hed  met  for  wuz  jes'  to  agree 
Wut  the  People's  opinions  in  futur'  should  be. 

Now,  to  come  to  the   nub,  we  've  ben  all  disap- 

pinted, 

An'  our  leadin'  idees  are  a  kind  o'  disjinted,  — 
Though,  fur  ez  the  nateral  man  could  discern, 
Things  ough'  to  ha'  took  most  an  oppersite  turn. 
But  The'ry  is  jes'  like  a  train  on  the  rail, 
Thet,  weather  or  110,  puts  her  thru  without  fail, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  221 

While  Fac  's  the  ole  stage  thet  gits  sloughed  in 

the  ruts, 

An'  hez  to  allow  for  your  darned  efs  an'  buts, 
An'  so,  nut  intendin'  no  pers'nal  reflections, 
They  don't  —  don't   nut  allus,   thet   is,  —  make 

connections : 
Sometimes,  when  it  really  doos  seem  thet  they  'd 

oughter 

Combine  jest  ez  kindly  ez  new  rum  an'  water, 
Both  '11  be  jest  ez  sot  in  their  ways  ez  a  bagnet, 
Ez  otherwise-minded  ez  th'  eends  of  a  magnet, 
An'  folks  like  you  'n  me  thet  ain't  ept  to  be  sold, 
Git  somehow  or  'nother  left  out  in  the  cold. 

I  expected  'fore  this,  'thout  no  gret  of  a  row, 
Jeff  D.  would  ha'  ben  where  A.  Lincoln  is  now, 
With  Taney  to  say  't  wuz  all  legle  an'  fair, 
An'  a  jury  o'  Deemocrats  ready  to  swear 
Thet  the  ingin  o'  State  gut  throwed  into  the  ditch 
By  the  fault  o'  the  North  in  misplacin'  the  switch. 
Things  wuz  ripenin'  fustrrate  with  Buchanan  to 

miss  'em  ; 
But  the  People  they  would  n't  be  Mexicans,  cuss 

'em  ! 
Ain't  the  safeguards  o'  freedom  upsot,  'z  you  may 

say, 

Ef  the  right  o'  rev'lution  is  took  clean  away  ? 
An'  doos  n't  the  right  primy-fashy  include 
The  bein'  entitled  to  nut  be  subdued  ? 
The  fact  is,  we  'd  gone  for  the  Union  so  strong, 


222  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

When  Union  meant  South  ollus  right  an'  North 

wrong, 

Thet  the  people  gut  fooled  into  thinkin'  it  might 
Worry  on  middlin'  wal  with  the  North  in  the 

right. 
We  might  ha'    ben   now  jest   ez   prosp'rous    ez 

France, 

Where  p'litikle  enterprise  hez  a  fair  chance, 
An'  the  people  is  heppy  an'  proud  et  this  hour, 
Long  ez  they  hev  the  votes,  to  let  Nap  hev  the 

power  ; 
But  our  folks  they  went  an'  believed  wut  we  'd 

told  'em, 
An',  the  flag  once  insulted,  no  mortle  could  hold 

'em. 
'T   wuz  provokin'  jest  when  we  wuz  cert'in  to 

win,  — 

An'  I.  for  one,  wunt  trust  the  masses  agin  : 
For  a  people  thet  knows  much  ain't  fit  to  be  free 
In  the  self-cockin',  back-action  style  o'  J.  D. 

I  can't  believe  now  but  wut  half  on  't  is  lies  ; 
For  who  'd  thought  the  North  wuz  a-goin'  to  rise, 
Or  take  the  pervokin'est  kin'  of  a  stump, 
'Thout  't  wuz  sunthin'  ez  pressin'  ez  Gabr'el's  las' 

trump  ? 

Or  who  'd  ha'  supposed,  arter  seek  swell  an'  blus 
ter 

'Bout  the  lick-ary-ten-on-ye  fighters  they  'd  mus 
ter, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  223 

Raised  by  hand  on  briled  lightnin',  ez  op'lent  'z 

you  please 

In  a  primitive  furrest  o'  femmily-trees,  — 
Who  'd  ha'  thought  thet  them  Southuners  ever 

'ud  show 
Starns  with  pedigrees  to  'em  like  theirn  to  the 

foe, 

Or,  when  the  vamosin'  come,  ever  to  find 
Nat'ral  masters  in  front  an'  mean  white  folks  be 
hind  ? 

By  ginger,  ef  I  'd  ha'  known  half  I  know  now, 
When  I  wuz  to  Congress,  I  would  n't,  I  swow, 
Hev  let  'em  cair  on  so  high-minded  an'  sarsy, 
"Thout  some  show  o'  wut  you  may  call  vicy-varsy. 
To  be  sure,  we  wuz  under  a  contrac'  jes'  then 
To  be  dreffle  forbearin'  towards  Southun  men  ; 
We  hed  to  go  sheers  in  preservin'  the  bellance ; 
An'  ez  they  seemed  to  feel  they  wuz  wastin'  their 

tellents 
'Thout  some  un  to  kick,  't  warn't  more  'n  proper, 

you  know, 
Each   should  funrtish   his  part ;  an'   sence   they 

found  the  toe, 
An'  we  wuz   n't  cherubs  —  wal,   we   found   the 

buffer, 
For  fear   thet  the  Compromise   System    should 

suffer. 

I   wun't  say  the   plan   hed  n't  onpleasant  fea- 
turs,  — 


224  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

For  men  are  perverse  an'  onreasonin'  creaturs, 

An'  forgit  thet  in  this  life  't  ain't  likely  to  hep- 
pen 

Their  own  privit  fancy  should  ollus  be  cappen,  — 

But  it  worked  jest  ez  smooth  ez  the  key  of  a 
safe, 

An'  the  gret  Union  bearins  played  free  from  all 
chafe. 

They  warn't  hard  to  suit,  ef  they  hed  their  own 
way; 

An'  we  (thet  is,  some  on  us)  made  the  thing 
pay: 

'T  wuz  a  fair  give-an'-take  out  of  Uncle  Sam's 
heap  ; 

Ef  they  took  wut  warn't  theirn,  wut  we  give 
come  ez  cheap  ; 

The  elect  gut  the  offices  down  to  tidewaiter, 

The  people  took  skinnin'  ez  mild  ez  a  tater, 

Seemed  to  choose  who  they  wanted  tu,  footed 
the  bills, 

An'  felt  kind  o'  'z  though  they  wuz  havin'  their 
wills, 

Which  kep'  'em  ez  harmless  an'  cherfle  ez  crick 
ets, 

While  all  we  invested  wuz  names  on  the  tick 
ets: 

Wai,  ther'  's  nothin',  for  folks  fond  o'  lib'ral  con 
sumption 

Free  o'  charge,  like  democ'acy  tempered  with 
gumption ! 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  225 

Now  warn't  thet  a  system  wuth  pains  in  presarv- 

in', 
Where  the  people  found  jints   an'    their  friens 

done  the  carvin',  — 
Where  the   many  done  all  o'  their  thinkin'  by 

proxy, 
An'  were  proud  on  't  ez  long  ez  't  wuz  christened 

Democ'cy,  — 
Where    the    few   let   us    sap    all    o'    Freedom's 

foundations, 

Ef  you  call  it  reformin'  with  prudence   an'  pa 
tience, 
An'   were  willin'  Jeff's    snake-egg  should  hetch 

with  the  rest, 

Ef  you  writ  "  Constitootional  "  over  the  nest  ? 
But   it 's  all  out  o'   kilter,   ('t  wuz  too  good  to 

last.) 

An'  all  jes'  by  J.  D.'s  perceeding  too  fast ; 
Ef  he  'd  on'y  hung  on  for  a  month  or  two  more, 
We  'd  ha'  gut  things  fixed  nicer  'n  they  hed  ben 

before  : 

Afore  he  drawed  off  an'  lef  all  in  confusion, 
We  wuz  safely  entrenched  in  the  ole  Constitoo- 

tion, 

With  an  outlyin',  heavy-gun,  casemated  fort 
To  rake  all  assailants,  —  I  mean  th'  S.  J.  Court. 
Now  I  never  '11  acknowledge   (nut  ef  you  should 

skin  me) 

'T  wuz  wise  to  abandon  sech  works  to  the  in'my, 
An'  let  him  fin'  out  thet  wut  scared  him  so  lon<r. 


226  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Our  whole  line  of  argyments,  lookin'  so  strong, 
All  our  Scriptur'  an'  law,  every  the'ry  an'  fac,' 
Wuz  Quaker-guns  daubed  with  Pro-slavery  black. 
Why,  ef  the  Republicans  ever  should  git 
Andy  Johnson  or  some  one  to  lend  'em  the  wit 
An'  the  spunk  jes'  to  mount  Constitootion  an' 

Court 

With  Columbiad  guns,  your  real  ekle-rights  sort, 
Or  drill  out  the  spike  from  the  ole  Declaration 
Thet  can  kerry  a  solid  shot  clearn  roun'  creation, 
We  'd  better  take  maysures  for  shettin'  up  shop, 
An'  put  off  our  stock  by  a  vendoo  or  swop. 

But  they  wun't  never  dare  tu  ;  you  '11  see  'em  in 

Edom 
'Fore  they  ventur'  to   go  where  their  doctrines 

'ud  lead  'em: 
They  've   ben   takin'    our   princerples  up  ez  we 

dropt  'em, 

An'  thought  it  wuz  terrible  'cute  to  adopt  'em  ; 
But  they  '11  fin'  out  'fore  long  thet  their  hope  's 

ben  deceivin'  'em, 
An'    thet  princerples  ain't    o'    no  good,    ef  you 

b'lieve  in  'em  ; 

It  makes  'em  tu  stiff  for  a  party  to  use, 
Where  they  'd  ough'  to  be  easy  'z  an  ole  pair  o' 

shoes. 

If  we  say  'n  our  pletform  thet  all  men  are  broth 
ers, 
We  don't  mean  thet  some  folks  ain't  more  so  'n 

some  others ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  227 

An'  it 's  wal  understood  thet  we  make  a  selec 
tion, 

An'  thet  brotherhood  kin'  o'  subsides  arter  lec 
tion. 

The  fust  thing  for  sound  politicians  to  larn  is, 
Thet  Truth,  to  dror  kindly  in  all  sorts  o'  harness, 
Mus'  be  kep'  in  the  abstract,  —  for,  come  to  ap 
ply  it, 

You  're  ept  to  hurt  some  folks's  interists  by  it. 
Wal,  these  'ere  Republicans  (some  on  'em)  ects 
Ez  though  gineral  mexims  'ud  suit  speshle  facts  ; 
An'  there  's  where  we  11  nick  'em,  there  's  where 

they  11  be  lost  : 

For  applyin'  your  princerple  's  wut  makes  it  cost, 
An'  folks  don't  want  Fourth  o'  July  t'  interfere 
With    the   business-consarns  o'  the   rest   o'    the 

year, 

No  more  'n  they  want  Sunday  to  pry  an'  to  peek 
Into  wut  they  are  doin'  the  rest  o'  the  week. 

A  ginooine  statesman  should  be  on  his  guard, 
Ef  he  must  hev  beliefs,  nut   to  b'lieve   'em   tu 

hard  ; 

For,  ez  sure  ez  he  does,  he  11  be  blartin  'em  out 
'Thout  regardin'   the  natur'  o'  man  more   'n  a 

spout, 
Nor  it  don't  ask  much  gumption  to   pick  out  a 

flaw 

In  a  party  whose  leaders  are  loose  in  the  jaw  : 
An'  so  in  our  own  case  I  ventur'  to  hint 


228  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Thet  we  'd  better  nut  air  our  perceedins  in  print, 
Nor  pass  resserlootions  ez  long  ez  your  arm 
Thet  may,  ez  things  heppeii  to  turn,  do  us  harm ; 
For  when  you  've  done  all  your  real  meanin'  to 

smother, 
The   darned  things   '11  up  an'  mean  sunthin'    or 

'nother. 
Jeff  son  prob'ly  meant  wal  with  his  "  born  free 

an'  ekle," 
But  it  's  turned  out  a  real  crooked  stick  in  the 

sekle  ; 
It    's   taken   full    eighty-odd    year  —  don't   you 

see  ?  — 

From  the  pop'lar  belief  to  root  out  thet  idee, 
An',  arter  all,  suckers  on  't  keep  buddin'  forth 
In  the  nat'lly  onprincipled  mind  o'  the  North. 
No,  never  say  nothin'  without  you  're  compelled 

to, 
An'  then  don't  say  nothin'  thet  you  can  be  held 

tu, 

Nor  don't  leave  no  friction-idees  layin'  loose 
For  the  ign'ant  to  put  to  incend'ary  use. 

You  know  I  'm  a  feller  thet  keeps  a  skinned  eye 

On  the  leetle  events  thet  go  skurryin'  by, 

Coz  it  's  of'ner  by  them  than  by  gret  ones  you  '11 

see 

Wut  the  p'litickle  weather  is  likely  to  be.   " 
Now  I  don't  think  the  South  's  more  'n  begun  to 

be  licked, 


TEE  B1GLOW  PAPERS.  229 

But  I  du  think,  ez  Jeff  says,  the  wind-bag  's  gut 

pricked  ; 
It  '11  blow  for  a  spell  an'  keep  puffin'  an'  wheez- 

in', 

The  tighter  our  army  an'  navy  keep  squeezing  — 
For  they  can't  help  spread-eaglein'  long  'z  ther'  's 

a  mouth 

To  blow  Enfield's  Speaker  thru  lef  at  the  South. 
But  it  's  high  time  for  us  to  be  settin'  our  faces 
Towards  reconstructin'  the  national  basis, 
With  an  eye  to  beginnin'  agin  on  the  jolly  ticks 
We  used  to  chalk  up  'hind  the  back-door  o'  poli 
tics  ; 
An'   the    fus'  thing   's    to  save   wut   of   Slav'ry 

ther'  's  lef 

Arter  this  (I  mus'  call  it)  imprudence  o'  Jeff : 
For  a  real  good  Abuse,   with   its  roots  fur   an' 

wide, 

Is  the  kin'  o'  thing  I  like  to  hev  on  my  side  ; 
A  Scriptur'  name  makes  it  ez  sweet  ez  a  rose, 
An'  its  tougher  the  older  an'  uglier  it  grows  — 
(I  ain't  speakin'  now  o'  the  righteousness  of  it, 
But  the  p'litickle  purchase  it  gives  an'  the  profit.) 

Things  look  pooty  squally,  it  must  be  allowed, 
An'    I   don't   see  much  signs   of  a  bow  in  the 

cloud : 
Ther'  's  too  many  Deemocrats  —  leaders,  wut 's 

wuss  — 
Thet  go  for  the  Union  'thout  carin'  a  cuss 


230  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Ef  it  helps  ary  party  thet  ever  wuz  heard  on, 
So  our  eagle  ain't  made  a  split  Austrian  bird  on. 
But  ther'  's  still  some    consarvative  signs  to  be 

found 

Thet  shows  the  gret  heart  o'  the  People  is  sound : 
(Excuse  me  for  usin'  a  stump-phrase  agin, 
But,  once  in  the  way  on  't,  they  will  stick  like 

sin :) 
There  's  Phillips,  for  instance,  hez  jes'  ketched  a 

Tartar 

In  the  Law-'n'-Order  Party  of  ole  Cincinnater  ; 
An'   the   Compromise  System  ain't  gone   out  o' 

reach, 
Long  'z  you  keep  the  right  limits  on  freedom  o' 

speech. 
'T  warn't  none  too  late,  neither,  to    put  on  the 

gag, 

For  he  's  dangerous  now  he  goes  in  for  the  flag. 
Nut  thet  I  altogether  approve  o'  bad  eggs, 
They  're  mos'  gin'lly  argymunt  on  its  las'  legs,  — 
An'  their  logic  is  ept  to  be  tu  indiscriminate, 
Nor  don't  ollus  wait  the  right  objecs  to  'liminate  ; 
But  there  is  a  variety  on  'em,  you  '11  find, 
Jest  ez  usefle  an'  more,  besides  bein  refined,  — 
I  mean  o'  the  sort  thet  are  laid  by  the  diction 
ary, 

Sech  ez  sophisms  an'  cant,  thet  '11  kerry  convic 
tion  ary 

Way  thet  you  want  to  the  right  class  o'  men, 
An'  are  staler  than  all  't  ever  come  from  a  hen : 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  281 

"  Disunion "    done    wal    till    our   resh    Southun 

friends  « 

Took  the  savor  all  out  on  't  for  national  ends  ; 
But  I  guess  "  Abolition  "  '11  work  a  spell  yit, 
When  the  war  's  done,  an'  so  will  "  Forgive-an' 

for  git." 

Times  mus'  be  pooty  thoroughly  out  o'  all  jint, 
Ef  we  can't  make  a  good  constitootional  pint ; 
An'  the  good  time  '11  come  to  be  grindin'  our  exes, 
When  the  war  goes  to  seed  in  the  nettle  o'  texes  : 
Ef  Jon'than  don't  squirm,  with  sech  helps  to  as 
sist  him, 

I  give  up  my  faith  in  the  free-suffrage  system ; 
Democ'cy  wun't  be  nut  a  might  interesting 
Nor  p'litikle  capital  much  wuth  investin'  ; 
An'  my  notion  is  to  keep  dark  an'  lay  low 
Till   we    see   the    right   minute   to   put    in   our 
blow.  — 

But  I  've  talked  longer  now  'n  T  hed  any  idee, 
An'  ther'  's  others  you  want  to  hear  more  'n  you 

du  me ; 
So  I  '11  set  down  an'  give  thet  'ere  bottle  a  skrim- 

mage, 
For  I  've   spoke  till  I  'm  dry  ez  a  real  graven 

image. 


No.  VL 
SUNTHIN'  IN  THE   PASTORAL  LINE. 

TO     THE     EDITORS    OF   THE    ATLANTIC     MONTHLY. 
JAALAM,  17th  May,  1862. 

GENTLEMEN,  —  At  the  special  request  of 
Mr.  Biglow,  I  intended  to  enclose,  together 
with  his  own  contribution,  (into  which,  at 
my  suggestion,  he  has  thrown  a  little  more 
of  pastoral  sentiment  than  usual,)  some 
passages  from  my  sermon  on  the  day  of  the 
National  Fast,  from  the  text,  "  Remember 
them  that  are  in  bonds,  as  bound  with 
them,"  Heb.  xiii.  3.  But  I  have  not  leisure 
sufficient  at  present  for  the  copying  of  them, 
even  were  I  altogether  satisfied  with  the 
production  as  it  stands.  I  should  prefer,  I 
confess,  to  contribute  the  entire  discourse  to 
the  pages  of  your  respectable  miscellany,  if 
it  should  be  found  acceptable  upon  perusal, 
especially  as  I  find  the  difficulty  of  selection 
of  greater  magnitude  than  I  had  anticipated. 
What  passes  without  challenge  in  the  fervor 
of  oral  delivery,  cannot  always  stand  the 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  233 

colder  criticism  of  the  closet.  I  am  not  so 
great  an  enemy  of  Eloquence  as  my  friend 
Mr.  Biglow  would  appear  to  be  from  some 
passages  in  his  contribution  for  the  current 
month.  I  would  not,  indeed,  hastily  sus 
pect  him  of  covertly  glancing  at  myself  in 
his  somewhat  caustic  animadversions,  albeit 
some  of  the  phrases  he  girds  at  are  not 
entire  strangers  to  my  lips.  I  am  a  more 
hearty  admirer  of  the  Puritans  than  seems 
now  to  be  the  fashion,  and  believe  that,  if 
they  Hebraized  a  little  too  much  in  their 
speech,  they  showed  remarkable  practical 
sagacity  as  statesmen  and  founders.  But 
such  Phenomena  as  Puritanism  are  the 
results  rather  of  great  religious  than  merely 
social  convulsions,  and  do  not  long  survive 
them.  So  soon  as  an  earnest  conviction  has 
cooled  into  a  phrase,  its  work  is  over,  and 
the  best  that  can  be  done  with  it  is  to  bury 
it.  Ite,  missa  est.  I  am  inclined  to  agree 
with  Mr.  Biglow  that  we  cannot  settle  the 
great  political  questions  which  are  now  pre 
senting  themselves  to  the  nation  by  the  opin 
ions  of  Jeremiah  or  Ezekiel  as  to  the  wants 
and  duties  of  the  Jews  in  their  time,  nor  do 
I  believe  that  an  entire  community  with  their 
feelings  and  views  would  be  practicable  or 


234  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

even  agreeable  at  the  present  day.  At  the 
same  time  I  could  wish  that  their  habit  of 
subordinating  the  actual  to  the  moral,  the 
flesh  to  the  spirit,  and  this  world  to  the  other, 
were  more  common.  They  had  found  out, 
at  least,  the  great  military  secret  that  soul 
weighs  more  than  body.  —  But  I  am  sud 
denly  called  to  a  sick-bed  in  the  household 
of  a  valued  parishioner. 

With  esteem  and  respect, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

HOMER  WILBUR. 

ONCE  git  a  smell  o'  musk  into  a  draw, 
An'  it  clings  hold  like  precerdents  in  law : 
Your  gra'ma'am  put  it  there,  —  when,  goodness 

knows,  — 

To  jes'  this-worldify  her  Sunday-clo'es  ; 
But  the  old  chist  wun't  sarve  her  gran'son's  wife, 
(For,  'thout  new  funnitoor,  wut  good  in  life  ?) 
An'  so  ole  clawfoot,  from  the  precinks  dread 
0'  the  spare  chamber,  slinks  into  the  shed, 
Where,  dim  with  dust,  it  fust  or  last  subsides 
To  holdin'  seeds  an'  fifty  things  besides  ; 
But  better  days  stick  fast  in  heart  an'  husk, 
An'  all  you  keep  in  't  gits  a  scent  o'  musk. 

Jes'  so  with  poets  :  wut  they  've  airly  read 
Gits  kind  'o  worked  into  their  heart  an'  head, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  235 

So  's  't  they  can't  seem  to  write  but  jest  on  sheers 
With  furrin  countries  or  played-out  ideers, 
Nor  hev  a  feelin',  ef  it  doos  n't  smack 
O'  wut  some  critter  chose  to  feel  'way  back : 
This  makes  'em  talk  o'  daisies,  larks,  an'  things, 
Ez   though   we  'd   nothin'   here    that   blows   an' 

sings,  — 

(Why,  I  'd  give  more  for  one  live  bobolink 
Than  a  square  mile  o'  larks  in  printer's  ink,)  — 
This  makes  'em  think  our  fust  o'  May  is  May, 
Which  't  ain't,  for  all  the  almanicks  can  say. 

0  little  city-gals,  don't  never  go  it 
Blind  on  the  word  o'  noospaper  or  poet ! 
They  're  apt  to  puff,  an'  May-day  seldom  looks 
Up  in  the  country  ez  it  doos  in  books ; 

They  're  no  more  like   than    hornets'-  nests  an' 

hives, 

Or  printed  sarmons  be  to  holy  lives. 
I,  with  my  trouses  perched  on  cow-hide  boots, 
Tuggin'  my  foundered  feet  out  by  the  roots, 
Hev  seen  ye  come  to  fling  on  April's  hearse 
Your  muslin  nosegays  from  the  milliner's, 
Puzzlin'  to  find  dry  ground  your  queen  to  choose, 
An'  dance  your  throats  sore  in  morocker  shoes : 

1  've    seen   ye    an'  felt   proud,    thet,    come    wut 

would, 

Our  Pilgrim  stock  wuz  pithed  with  hardihood. 
Pleasure  doos  make  us  Yankees  kind  o'  winch, 
Ez  though  't  wuz  sun  thin'  paid  for  by  the  inch  ; 


236  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

But  yit  we  du  contrive  to  worry  thru, 
Ef  Dooty  tells  us  thet  the  thing  's  to  du, 
An'  kerry  a  hollerday,  ef  we  set  out, 
Ez  stiddily  ez  though  't  wuz  a  redoubt. 

I,  country-born  an'  bred,  know  where  to  find 
Some    blooms    thet   make    the    season   suit    the 

mind, 
An'    seem    to    metch    the    doubtin'    bluebird's 

notes,  — 

Half-vent'rin'  liverworts  in  furry  coats, 
Bloodroots,  whose  rolled-up  leaves  ef  you  oncurl, 
Each  on  'em  's  cradle  to  a  baby-pearl,  — 
But  these  are  jes'  Spring's  pickets ;  sure  ez  sin, 
The  rebble  frosts  '11  try  to  drive  'em  in  ; 
For  half  our  May  's  so  awfully  like  May  n't, 
'T  would  rile  a  Shaker  or  an  evrige  saint ; 
Though  I  own  up  I  like  our  back'ard  springs 
Thet  kind  o'  haggle  with  their  greens  an'  things, 
An'  when  you  'most  give  up,  'ithout  more  words 
Toss  the  fields  full  o'  blossoms,  leaves,  an'  birds  : 
Thet  's  Northun  natur',  slow  an'  apt  to  doubt, 
But  when  it  doos  git  stirred,  ther'  's  no  gin-out ! 

Fust  come  the  blackbirds   clatt'rin'  in  tall  trees, 
An'  settlin'  things  in  windy  Congresses,  — 
Queer  politicians,  though,  for  I  '11  be  skinned 
Ef  all  on  'em  don't  head  against  the  wind. 
'Fore  long  the  trees  begin  to  show  belief,  — 
The  maple  crimsons  to  a  coral-reef, 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  237 

Then  saffern  swarms  swing  off  from  all  the  \\lllers 
So  plump  they  look  like  yaller  caterpillars, 
Then  gray  hossches'nuts  leetle  hands  unfold 
Softer  'n  a  baby's  be  at  three  days  old : 
Thet  's  robin-redbreast's  almanick ;  he  knows 
Thet  arter  this  ther'  's  only  blossom-snows ; 
So,  choosin'  out  a  handy  crotch  an'  spouse, 
He  goes  to  plast'rin'  his  adobe  house. 

Then  seems  to  come  a  hitch,  —  things  lag  behind, 
Till   some   fine    mornin'   Spring   makes    up   her 

mind, 
An'   ez,   when   snow-swelled   rivers   cresh   their 

dams 

Heaped-up  with  ice  thet  dovetails  in  an'  jams, 
A  leak  comes  spirtiu'  thru  some  pin-hole  cleft, 
Grows  stronger,  fercer,  tears  out  right  an'  left, 
Then  all  the  waters  bow  themselves  an'  come, 
Suddin,  in  one  gret  slope  o'  shedderin'  foam, 
Jes'  so  our  Spring  gits  everythin'  in  tune 
An'  gives  one  leap  from  April  into  June  : 
Then  all  comes  crowdin'  in  ;  afore  you  think, 
Young  oak-leaves  mist  the   side-hill  woods  with 

pink  ; 

The  catbird  in  the  laylock-bush  is  loud  ; 
The  orchards  turn  to  heaps  o'  rosy  cloud ; 
Red-cedars  blossom  tu,  though  few  folks  know  it, 
An'  look  all  dipt  in  sunshine  like  a  poet ; 
The  lime-trees  pile  their  solid  stacks  o'  shade 
An'  drows'ly  simmer  with  the  bees'  sweet  trade ; 


238  THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS. 

In  ellum-shrouds  the  flashin'  hangbird  clings, 
An'  for  the  summer  vy'ge  his  hammock  slings ; 
All  down  the  loose-walled  lanes  in  archin'  bow 
ers 

The  barb'ry  droops  its  strings  o'  golden  flowers, 
Whose  shrinkin'  hearts  the  school-gals  love  to  try 
With  pins,  —  they  11  worry  yourn  so,  boys. 

bimeby ! 
But    I    don't    love    your    cat'logue    style,  —  do 

you?  — 

Ez  ef  to  sell  off  Natur'  by  vendoo  ; 
One  word  with  blood  in  't  's  twice  ez  good  ez 

two: 

'Nuff  sed,  June's  bridesman,  poet  o'  the  year, 
Gladness  on  wings,  the  bobolink,  is  here ; 
Half -hid  in  tip-top  apple-blooms  he  swings, 
Or  climbs  aginst  the  breeze  with  quiverin'  wings, 
Or,  givin'  way  to  't  in  a  mock  despair, 
Runs  down,  a  brook  o'  laughter,  thru  the  air. 

I  ollus  feel  the  sap  start  in  my  veins 

In  Spring,  with  curus  heats  an'  prickly  pains, 

Thet  drive  me,  when  I  git  a  chance,  to  walk 

Off  by  myself  to  hev  a  privit  talk 

With  a  queer  critter  thet  can't  seem  to  'gree 

Along  o'  me  like  most  folks,  —  Mister  Me. 

Ther'  's  times  when  I  'm  unsoshle  ez  a  stone, 

An'  sort  o'  suffocate  to  be  alone,  — 

I  'm  crowded  jes'  to  think  thet  folks  are  nigh, 

An'  can't  bear  nothin'  closer  than  the  sky ; 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  239 

Now  the  wind  's  full  ez  shifty  in  the  mind 
Ez  wut  it  is  ou'-doors,  ef  I  ain't  blind, 
An'  sometimes,  in  the  fairest  sou'west  weather, 
My  innard  vane  pints  east  for  weeks  together, 
My  natur'  gite  all  goose-flesh,  an'  my  sins 
Come  drizzlin'  on  my  conscience  sharp  ez  pins : 
Wai,  et  sech  times  I  jes'  slip  out  o'  sight 
An'  take  it  out  in  a  fair  stan'-up  fight 
With  the  one  cuss  I  can't  lay  on  the  shelf, 
The  crook'dest  stick  in  all  the  heap,  —  Myself. 

'T  wuz  so  las'  Sabbath  arter  meetin'-time  : 

Finclin'  my  feelin's  would  n't  noways  rhyme 

With  nobody's,  but  off  the  hendle  flew 

An'  took  things  from  an  east-wind  pint  o'  view, 

I  started  off  to  lose  me  in  the  hills 

Where  the  pines  be,  up  back  o'  'Siah's  Mills : 

Pines,  ef   you  're   blue,  are  the   best   friends    I 

know. 

They  mope  an'  sigh  an'  sheer  your  feelin's  so,  — 
They  hesh  the  ground  beneath  so,  tu,  I  swan, 
You  half-forgit  you  Ve  gut  a  body  on. 
Ther'  's  a  small  school'us'  there  where  four  roads 

meet, 

The  door-steps  hollered  out  by  little  feet, 
An'  side-posts  carved  with  names  whose  owners 

grew 

To  gret  men,  some  on  'em,  an'  deacons,  tu ; 
'T  ain't  used  no  longer,  coz  the  town  hez  gut 
A  high-school,  where  they  teach  the  Lord  knows 

wut : 


240  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

Three-story  larnin'  's  pop'lar  now  ;  I  guess 

We  thriv'  ez  wal  on  jes'  two  stories  less, 

For  it  strikes  me  ther'  's  sech  a  thing  ez  sinnin' 

By  overloadin'  children's  underpinnin' . 

Wal,  here  it  wuz  I  lamed  my  ABC, 

An'  it  's  a  kind  o'  favorite  spot  with  me. 

We  're  curus  critters  :  Now  ain't  jes'  the  minute 

Thet  ever  fits  us  easy  while  we  're  in  it ; 

Long  ez  't  wuz  futur',  'twould  be  perfect  bliss,  — 

Soon  ez  it  's  past,  thet  time  's  wuth  ten  o'  this ; 

An'  yit  there  ain't  a  man  thet  need  be  told 

Thet  Now  's  the  only  bird  lays  eggs  o'  gold. 

A  knee-high  lad,  I  used  to  plot  an'  plan 

An'  think  't  wuz  life's  cap-sheaf  to  be  a  man ; 

Now  gittin'  gray,  there  's  nothin'  I  enjoy 

Like  dreamin'  back  along  into  a  boy  : 

So  the  ole  school'us'  is  a  place  I  choose 

Afore  all  others,  ef  I  want  to  muse ; 

I  set  down  where  I  used  to  set,  an'  git 

My  boyhood  back,  an'  better  things  with  it,  — 

Faith,  Hope,  an'  sunthin',  ef  it  is  n't  Cherrity, 

It  's  want  o'  guile,  an'  thet  's  ez  gret  a  rerrity. 

Now,  'fore  I  knowed,  thet  Sabbath  arternoon 
Thet  I  sot  out  to  tramp  myself  in  tune, 
I  found  me  in  the  school'us'  on  my  seat, 
Drummin'  the  march  to  No-wheres  with  my  feet. 
Thinkin'  o'  nothin',  I  've  heerd  ole  folks  say, 
Is  a  hard  kind  o'  dooty  in  its  way : 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  241 

It  's  thinkin'  everythin'  you  ever  knew, 

Or  ever  hearn,  to  make  your  feelin's  blue. 

I  sot  there  tryin'  thet  on  for  a  spell : 

I  thought  o'  the  Rebellion,  then  o'  Hell, 

Which  some  folks  tell  ye  now  is  jest  a  metterfor 

(A  the'ry,  p'raps,  it  wun't  feel  none  the  better 

for); 

I  thought  o'  Reconstruction,  wut  we  'd  win 
Patchin'  our  patent  self-blow-up  agin  : 
I  thought  ef  this  'ere  milkin'  o'  the  wits, 
So  much  a  month,  warn't  givin'  Natur'  fits,  — 
Ef  folks  warn't  druv,  findin'  their  own  milk  fail, 
To  work  the  cow  thet  hez  an  iron  tail, 
In'  ef  idees  'thout  ripenin'  in  the  pan 
Would  send  up  cream  to  humor  ary  man : 
From  this  to  thet  I  let  my  worryin'  creep, 
Till  finally  I  must  ha'  fell  asleep. 

Our  lives  in  sleep  are  some  like  streams  thet  glide 
'Twixt  flesh  an'  sperrit  boundin'  on  each  side, 
Where    both    shores'  shadders   kind  o'  mix  an' 

mingle 

In  sunthin'  thet  ain't  jes'  like  either  single  ; 
An'  when  you  cast  off  moorin's  from  To-day, 
An'  down  towards  To-morrer  drift  away, 
The  imiges  thet  tengle  on  the  stream 
Make  a  new  upside-down'ard  world  o'  dream : 
Sometimes   they   seem    like    sunrise-streaks    an' 

warnin's 
0'  wut  '11  be  in  Heaven  on  Sabbath-mornin's, 


242  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

An',  mixed  right  in  ez  ef  jest  out  o'  spite, 
Sunthin'  thet  says  your  supper  ain't  gone  right. 
I  'm  gret  on  dreams,  an'  often,  when  I  wake, 
I  've  lived  so  much  it  makes  my  mem'ry  ache, 
An'  can't  skurce  take  a  cat-nap  in  my  cheer 
'Thout   hevin'   'em,    some    good,   some   bad,  all 
queer. 

Now  I  wuz  settin'  where  I  'd  ben,  it  seemed, 
An'  ain't  sure  yit  whether  I  r'ally  dreamed, 
Nor,  ef  I  did,  how  long  I  might  ha'  slep', 
When  I  hearn  some  un  stompin'  up  the  step, 
An'  lookin'  round,  ef  two  an'  two  make  four, 
I  see  a  Pilgrim  Father  in  the  door. 
He  wore  a  steeple-hat,  tall  boots,  an'  spurs 
With  rowels  to  'em  big  ez  ches'nut  burrs, 
An'  his  gret  sword  behind  him  sloped  away 
Long  'z  a  man's  speech  thet  dunno  wut  to  say.  — 
"  Ef  your  name  's  Biglow,  an'  your  given-name 
Hosee,"  sez  he,  "  it 's  arter  you  I  came  ; 
I  'm  your  gret-gran'ther  multiplied  by  three."  — 
"  My    wut  ?  "  sez    I.  —  "  Your    gret-gret-gret," 

sez  he  : 
"  You  would  n't  ha'  never  ben  here  but  for  me. 

"  Two  hundred  an'  three  year  ago  this  May 
The  ship  I  come  in  sailed  up  Boston  Bay ; 
I  'd  been  a  cunnle  in  our  Civil  War,  — 
But  wut  on  airth  hev  you  gut  up  one  for  ? 
Coz  we  du  things  in  England,  't  ain't  for  you 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  243 

To  git  a  notion  you  can  du  'em  tu : 

I  'm  told  you  write  in  public  prints  :  ef  true^ 

It 's  nateral  you  should  know  a  thing  or  two."  — 

"  Thet  air  's  an  argymunt  I  can't  endorse,  — 

'T  would  prove,  coz  you  wear  spurs,  you  kep'  a 

horse : 

For  brains,"  sez  I,  "  wutever  you  may  think, 
Ain't  boun'  to  cash  the  drafs  o'  pen-an'-ink,  — 
Though   mos'  folks  write  ez  ef  they  hoped  jes' 

quickenin' 

The  churn  would  argoo  skim-milk  into  thickenin' ; 
But  skim-milk  ain't  a  thing  to  change  its  view 
O'  wut  it 's  meant  for  more  'n  a  smoky  flue. 
But  du  pray  tell  me,  'fore  we  furder  go, 
How  in  all  Natur'  did  you  come  to  know 
'Bout  our  affairs,"  sez  I,  "  in  Kingdom-Come  ?  " — • 
"  Wai,  I  worked  round  at  sperrit-rappin'  some, 
An'  danced  the  tables  till  their  legs  wuz  gone, 
In  hopes  o'  larnin'  wut  wuz  goin'  on," 
Sez  he,  "  but  mejums  lie  so  like  all-split 
Thet  I  concluded  it  wuz  best  to  quit. 
But,  come  now,  ef  you  wun't  confess  to  knowin', 
You  've  some  conjectures  how  the  thing 's  a-go- 

inV  — 

"  Gran'ther,"  sez  I,  "  a  vane  warn't  never  known 
Nor  asked  to  hev  a  jedgment  of  its  own  ; 
An'  yit,  ef  't  ain't  gut  rusty  in  the  jints, 
It  's  safe  to  trust  its  say  on  certin  pints  : 
It  knows  the  wind's  opinions  to  a  T, 
An'  the  wind  settles  wut  the  weather  '11  be." 


244  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

"  I  never  thought  a  scion  of  our  stock 
Could%grow  the  wood  to  make  a  weathercock ; 
When  I  wuz  younger  'n  you,  skurce  more  'n  a 

shaver, 
No    airthly  wind,"    sez    he,    "  could    make    me 

waver !  " 

(Ez  he   said  this,  he  clinched  his  jaw  an'  fore 
head, 
Hitchin'    his   belt   to  bring   his    sword-hilt   for- 

rard.)  — 

"  Jes'  so  it  wuz  with  me,"  sez  I,  "  I  swow, 
When  /  wuz  younger  'n  wut  you  see  me  now,  — 
Nothin'  from  Adam's  fall  to  Huldy's  bonnet, 
Thet  I  warn't  full-cocked  with  my  jedgment  on 

it; 

But  now  I'm  gittin'  on  in  life,  I  find 
It 's  a  sight  harder  to  make  up  my  mind,  — 
Nor  I  don't  often  try  tu,  when  events 
Will  du  it  for  me  free  of  all  expense. 
The  moral  question  's  ollus  plain  enough,  — 
It 's  jes'  the  human-natur'  side  thet  's  tough ; 
Wut  's   best   to   think   may  n't   puzzle    me   nor 

you, — 

The  pinch  comes  in  decidin'  wut  to  du  ; 
Ef  you  read  History,  all  runs  smooth  ez  grease, 
Coz  there  the  men  ain't  nothin'  more  'n  idees,  — 
But  come  to  make  it,  ez  we  must  to-day, 
Th'  idees  hev  arms  an'  legs  an'  stop  the  way : 
It 's  easy  fixin  things  in  facts  an'  figgers,  — 
They  can't  resist,  nor  warn't  brought  up  with 

niggers ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  245 

But  come  to  try  your  the'ry  on,  —  why,  then 
Your  facts  an'  figgers  change  to  ign'ant  men 
Actin'  ez  ugly  "  —     "  Smite  'em  hip  an'  thigh !  " 
Sez  gran'ther,  "  and  let  every  man-child  die  ! 
Oh  for  three  weeks  o'  Crommle  an'  the  Lord ! 
Up,  Isr'el,  to  your  tents  an'  grind  the  sword  !  "  — 
"  Thet  kind  o'  thing  worked  wal  in  ole  Judee, 
But  you  forgit  how  long  it 's  ben  A.  D.  ; 
You  think  thet  's  ellerkence,  I  call  it  shoddy,  — 
A  thing,"  sez  I,  ''  wun't  cover  soul  nor  body  ; 
I  like  the  plain  all-wool  o'  common-sense, 
Thet   warms   ye    now,  an'   will   a   twelvemonth 

hence. 

You  took  to  follerin'  where  the  Prophets  beck 
oned, 
An',  fust  you  knowed  on,  back  come  Charles  the 

Second  ; 

Now  wut  I  want 's  to  hev  all  we  gain  stick, 
An'  not  to  start  Millennium  too  quick  ; 
We  hain't  to  punish  only,  but  to  keep, 
An'  the  cure  's  gut  to  go  a  cent'ry  deep." 
"  Wal,  milk-an'  water  ain't  the  best  o'  glue," 
Sez  he,  "  an'  so  you  '11  find  before  you  're  thru  ; 
Ef  reshness  venters  sunthin',  shilly-shally 
Loses  ez  often  wut 's  ten  times  the  vally. 
Thet  exe  of  ourn,  when  Charles's  neck  gut  split, 
Opened  a  gap  thet  ain't  bridged  over  yit : 
Slav'ry  's  your  Charles,   the   Lord  hez   gin  the 

exe  "  — 

"  Our  Charles,"   sez  I,    "  hez  gut  eight   million 
necks. 


246  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

The  hardest  question  ain't  the  black  man's  right, 
The  trouble  is  to  'mancipate  the  white  ; 
One  's  chained  in  body  an'  can  be  sot  free, 
But  t'  other  's  chained  in  soul  to  an  idee  : 
It 's  a  long  job,  but  we  shall  worry  thru  it ; 
Ef  bag'nets  fail,  the  spellin'-book  must  du  it." 
"  Hosee,"  sez  he,  "  I  think  you  're  goin'  to  fail : 
The  rettlesnake  ain't  dangerous  in  the  tail ; 
This  'ere  rebellion  's  nothin'  but  the  rettle,  — 
You  '11  stomp  on  thet  an'  think  you  've  won  the 

bettle  ; 

It 's  Slavery  thet 's  the  fangs  an'  thinkin'  head, 
An'  ef  you  want  selvation,  cresh  it  dead,  — 
An'  cresh  it  suddin,  or  you  '11  larn  by  waitin' 
Thet  Chance  wun't  stop  to  listen  to  debatin' !  "  — 
"  God's  truth  !  "  sez  I,  —  "  an'  ef  /  held  the  club, 
An'  knowed  jes'  where  to  strike,  —  but  there  's 

the  rub  !  "  - 
"  Strike    soon,"  sez  he,  "  or   you  '11   be  deadly 

ailin',  — 

Folks  thet 's  afeared  to  fail  are  sure  o'  failin' ; 
God  hates  your  sneakin'  creturs  thet  believe 
He  '11  settle  things  they  run  away  an'  leave  !  " 
He  brought  his  foot  down  fercely,  ez  he  spoke, 
An'  give  me  sech  a  startle  thet  I  woke. 


No.  VII. 
LATEST  VIEWS  OF  MR.  BIGLOW. 

PRELIMINARY    NOTE. 

[!T  is  with  feelings  of  the  liveliest  pain 
that  we  inform  our  readers  of  the  death  of 
the  Reverend  Homer  Wilbur,  A.  M.,  which 
took  place  suddenly,  by  an  apoplectic  stroke, 
on  the  afternoon  of  Christmas  day,  1862. 
Our  venerable  friend  (for  so  we  may  ven 
ture  to  call  him,  though  we  never  enjoyed 
the  high  privilege  of  his  personal  acquaint 
ance)  was  in  his  eighty-fourth  year,  having 
been  born  June  12,  1779,  at  Pigsgusset 
Precinct  (now  West  Jerusha)  in  the  then 
District  of  Maine.  Graduated  with  distinc 
tion  at  Hubville  College  in  1805,  he  pursued 
his  theological  studies  with  the  late  Rev 
erend  Preserved  Thacker,  D.  D.,  and  was 
called  to  the  charge  of  the  First  Society  in 
Jaalam  in  1809,  where  he  remained  till  his 
death. 

"  As  an  antiquary  he  has  probably  left  no 


248  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

superior,  if,  indeed,  an  equal,"  writes  his 
friend  and  colleague,  the  Reverend  Jeduthun 
Hitchcock,,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for 
the  above  facts  ;  "  in  proof  of  which  I  need 
only  allude  to  his  '  History  of  Jaalam,  Gene 
alogical,  Topographical,  and  Ecclesiastical,' 
1849,  which  has  won  him  an  eminent  and 
enduring  place  in  our  more  solid  and  useful 
literature.  It  is  only  to  be  regretted  that 
his  intense  application  to  historical  studies 
should  have  so  entirely  withdrawn  him  from 
the  pursuit  of  poetical  composition,  for 
which  he  was  endowed  by  Nature  with  a  re 
markable  aptitude.  His  well-known  hymn, 
beginning, '  With  clouds  of  care  encompassed 
round,'  has  been  attributed  in  some  collec 
tions  to  the  late  President  D  wight,  and  it 
is  hardly  presumptuous  to  affirm  that  the 
simile  of  the  rainbow  in  the  eighth  stanza 
would  do  no  discredit  to  that  polished  pen." 
We  regret  that  we  have  not  room  at  pres 
ent  for  the  whole  of  Mr.  Hitchcock's  exceed 
ingly  valuable  communication.  We  hope  to 
lay  more  liberal  extracts  from  it  before  our 
readers  at  an  early  day.  A  summary  of  its 
contents  will  give  some  notion  of  its  im 
portance  and  interest.  It  contains  :  1st,  A 
biographical  sketch  of  Mr.  Wilbur,  with 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  249 

notices  of  his  predecessors  in  the  pastoral 
office,  and  of  eminent  clerical  contempora 
ries  ;  2d,  An  obituary  of  deceased,  from  the 
Punkin-Falls  "Weekly  Parallel;"  3d,  A 
list  of  his  printed  and  manuscript  produc 
tions  and  of  projected  works  ;  4th,  Personal 
anecdotes  and  recollections,  with  specimens 
of  table-talk  ;  5th,  A  tribute  to  his  relict, 
Mrs.  Dorcas  (Pileox)  Wilbur;  6th,  A  list 
of  graduates  fitted  for  different  colleges  by 
Mr.  Wilbur,  with  biographical  memoranda 
touching  the  more  distinguished ;  7th,  Con 
cerning  learned,  charitable,  and  other  socie 
ties,  of  which  Mr.  Wilbur  was  a  member, 
and  of  those  with  which,  had  his  life  been 
prolonged,  he  would  doubtless  have  been  as 
sociated,  with  a  complete  catalogue  of  such 
Americans  as  have  been  Fellows  of  the 
Royal  Society;  8th,  A  brief  summary  of 
Mr.  Wilbur's  latest  conclusions  concerning 
the  Tenth  Horn  of  the  Beast  in  its  special 
application  to  recent  events,  for  which  the 
public,  as  Mr.  Hitchcock  assures  us,  have 
been  waiting  with  feelings  of  lively  anticipa 
tion  ;  10th,  Mr.  Hitchcock's  own  views  on 
the  same  topic ;  and,  llth,  A  brief  essay  on 
the  importance  of  local  histories.  It  will  be 
apparent  that  the  duty  of  preparing  Mr. 


250  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Wilbur's   biography  could   not  have  fallen 
into  more  sympathetic  hands. 

In  a  private  letter  with  which  the  reverend 
gentleman  has  since  favored  us,  he  expresses 
the  opinion  that  Mr.  Wilbur's  life  was  short 
ened  by  our  unhappy  civil  war.  It  disturbed 
his  studies,  dislocated  all  his  habitual  associ 
ations  and  trains  of  thought,  and  unsettled 
the  foundations  of  a  faith,  rather  the  result 
of  habit  than  conviction,  in  the  capacity  of 
man  for  self-government.  "  Such  has  been 
the  felicity  of  my  life,"  he  said  to  Mr. 
Hitchcock,  on  the  very  morning  of  the  day 
he  died,  "  that,  through  the  divine  mercy,  I 
could  always  say  Summum  nee  metuo  diem, 
nee  opto.  It  has  been  my  habit,  as  you 
know,  on  every  recurrence  of  this  blessed 
anniversary,  to  read  Milton's  Hymn  of  the 
Nativity  till  its  sublime  harmonies  so  dilated 
my  soul  and  quickened  its  spiritual  sense 
that  I  seemed  to  hear  that  other  song  which 
gave  assurance  to  the  shepherds  that  there 
was  One  who  would  lead  them  also  in  green 
pastures  and  beside  the  still  waters.  But  to 
day  I  have  been  unable  to  think  of  anything 
but  that  mournful  text,  '  I  came  not  to  send 
peace,  but  a  sword,'  and,  did  it  not  smack 
of  pagan  presumptuousness,  could  almost 
wish  I  had  never  lived  to  see  this  day." 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  251 

Mr.  Hitchcock  also  informs  us  that  his 
friend  "  lies  buried  in  the  Jaalam  graveyard, 
under  a  large  red-cedar  which  he  specially 
admired.  A  neat  and  substantial  monument 
is  to  be  erected  over  his  remains,  with  a 
Latin  epitaph  written  by  himself ;  for  he 
was  accustomed  to  say,  pleasantly,  '  that 
there  was  at  least  one  occasion  in  a  scholar's 
life  when  he  might  show  the  advantages  of 
a  classical  training.' " 

The  following  fragment  of  a  letter  ad 
dressed  to  us,  and  apparently  intended  to 
accompany  Mr.  Biglow's  contribution  to  the 
present  number,  was  found  upon  his  table 
after  his  decease.  —  EDITORS  ATLANTIC 
MONTHLY.] 

TO    THE    EDITORS    OF   THE    ATLANTIC    MONTHLY. 
JAALAM,  24th  Dec.,  1862. 

RESPECTED  SIRS,  —  The  infirm  state  of 
my  bodily  health  would  be  a  sufficient  apol 
ogy  for  not  taking  up  the  pen  at  this  time, 
wholesome  as  I  deem  it  for  the  mind  to  apri- 
cate  in  the  shelter  of  epistolary  confidence, 
were  it  not  that  a  considerable,  I  might  even 
say  a  large,  number  of  individuals  in  this 
parish  expect  from  their  pastor  some  pub- 


252  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

lie  expression  of  sentiment  at  this  crisis. 
Moreover,  Qui  tacitus  ardet  mag  is  uritur. 
In  trying  times  like  these,  the  besetting  sin 
of  undisciplined  minds  is  to  seek  refuge 
from  inexplicable  realities  in  the  dangerous 
stimulant  of  angry  partisanship  or  the  indo 
lent  narcotic  of  vague  and  hopeful  vatici 
nation  :  fortunamque  suo  temperat  arbitrio. 
Both  by  reason  of  my  age  and  my  natural 
temperament,  I  am  unfitted  for  either.  Un 
able  to  penetrate  the  inscrutable  judgments  of 
God,  I  am  more  than  even  thankful  that  my 
life  has  been  prolonged  till  I  could  in  some 
small  measure  comprehend  His  mercy.  As 
there  is  no  man  who  does  not  at  some  time 
render  himself  amenable  to  the  one,  —  quum 
vix  Justus  sit  securus,  —  so  there  is  none 
that  does  not  feel  himself  in  daily  need  of 
the  other. 

I  confess,  I  cannot  feel,  as  some  do,  a  per 
sonal  consolation  for  the  manifest  evils  of 
this  war  in  any  remote  or  contingent  advan 
tages  that  may  spring  from  it.  I  am  old 
and  weak,  I  can  bear  little,  and  can  scarce 
hope  to  see  better  days ;  nor  is  it  any  ade 
quate  compensation  to  know  that  Nature  is 
old  and  strong  and  can  bear  much.  Old 
men  philosophize  over  the  past,  but  the  pre- 


THE  BJGLOW  PAPERS.  253 

sent  is  only  a  burthen  and  a  weariness.  The 
one  lies  before  them  like  a  placid  evening 
landscape  ;  the  other  is  full  of  the  vexations 
and  anxieties  of  housekeeping.  It  may  be 
true  enough  that  miscet  hcec  illis,  prohibet- 
que  Cloiho  fortunam  stare,  but  he  who  said 
it  was  fain  at  last  to  call  in  Atropos  with 
her  shears  before  her  time  ;  and  I  cannot 
help  selfishly  mourning  that  the  fortune  of 
our  Republic  could  not  at  least  stand  till  my 
days  were  numbered. 

Tibullus  would  find  the  origin  of  wars  in 
the  great  exaggeration  of  riches,  and  does 
not  stick  to  say  that  in  the  days  of  the 
beechen  trencher  there  was  peace.  But 
averse  as  I  am  by  nature  from  all  wars,  the 
more  as  they  have  been  especially  fatal  to 
libraries,  I  would  have  this  one  go  on  till  we 
are  reduced  to  wooden  platters  again,  rather 
than  surrender  the  principle  to  defend  which 
it  was  undertaken.  Though  I  believe  Slav 
ery  to  have  been  the  cause  of  it,  by  so  thor 
oughly  demoralizing  Northern  politics  for 
its  own  purposes  as  to  give  opportunity  and 
hope  to  treason,  yet  I  would  not  have  our 
thought  and  purpose  diverted  from  their 
true  object,  —  the  maintenance  of  the  idea 
of  Government.  We  are  not  merely  sup- 


254  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

pressing  an  enormous  riot,  but  contending 
for  the  possibility  of  permanent  order  co 
existing  with  democratical  fickleness ;  and 
while  1  would  not  superstitiously  venerate 
form  to  the  sacrifice  of  substance,  neither 
would  I  forget  that  an  adherence  to  prece 
dent  and  prescription  can  alone  give  that 
continuity  and  coherence  under  a  democrat 
ical  constitution  which  are  inherent  in  the 
person  of  a  despotic  monarch  and  the  sel 
fishness  of  an  aristocratical  class.  Stet  pro 
ratione  voluntas  is  as  dangerous  in  a  major 
ity  as  in  a  tyrant. 

I  cannot  allow  the  present  production  of 
my  young  friend  to  go  out  without  a  protest 
from  me  against  a  certain  extremeness  in  his 
views,  more  pardonable  in  the  poet  than  the 
philosopher.  While  I  agree  with  him,  that 
the  only  cure  for  rebellion  is  suppression  by 
force,  yet  I  must  animadvert  upon  certain 
phrases  where  I  seem  to  see  a  coincidence 
with  a  popular  fallacy  on  the  subject  of  com 
promise.  On  the  one  hand  there  are  those 
who  do  not  see  that  the  vital  principle  of 
Government  and  the  seminal  principle  of 
Law  cannot  properly  be  made  a  subject  of 
compromise  at  all,  and  on  the  other  those 
who  are  equally  blind  to  the  truth  that  with- 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  255 

out  a  compromise  of  individual  opinions,  in 
terests,  and  even  rights,  no  society  would  be 
possible.  In  medio  tutissimus.  For  my 
own  part,  I  would  gladly 


EF  I  a  song  or  two  could  make, 

Like  rockets  druv  by  their  own  burnin', 
All  leap  an'  light,  to  leave  a  wake 

Men's  hearts  an'  faces  skyward  turnin' !  — 
But,  it  strikes  me,  't  ain't  jest  the  time 

Fer  stringin'  words  with  settisfaction  : 
Wut  's  wanted  now  's  the  silent  rhyme 

'Twixt  upright  Will  an'  downright  Action. 

Words,  ef  you  keep  'em,  pay  their  keep, 

But  gabble  's  the  short  cut  to  ruin ; 
It 's  gratis,  (gals  half-price,)  but  cheap 

At  no  rate,  ef  it  benders  doin  ; 
Ther'  's  nothin'  wuss,  'less  't  is  to  set 

A  martyr-prem'um  upon  jawrin' : 
Teapots  git  dangerous,  ef  you  shet 

Their  lids  down  on  'em  with  Fort  Warren. 

'Bout  long  enough  it 's  ben  discussed 

Who  sot  the  magazine  afire, 
An'  whether,  ef  Bob  Wickliffe  bust, 

'T  would  scare  us  more  or  blow  us  higher. 


256  THE   BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

D'  ye  s'pose  the  Gret  Foreseer's  plan 
Wuz  settled  fer  him  in  town-meetin'  ? 

Or  thet  ther'  'd  ben  no  Fall  o'  Man, 
Ef  Adam  'd  on'y  bit  a  sweetin'  ? 

Oh,  Jon'than,  ef  you  want  to  be 

A  rugged  chap  agin  an'  hearty, 
Go  fer  wutever  11  hurt  Jeff  D., 

Nut  wut  '11  boost  up  ary  party. 
Here  's  hell  broke  loose,  an'  we  lay  flat 

With  half  the  univarse  a-singein', 
Till  Sen'tor  This  an'  Gov'nor  Thet 

Stop  squabblin'  fer  the  garding-ingin. 

It 's  war  we  're  in,  not  politics  ; 

It 's  systems  wrastlin'  now,  not  parties ; 
An'  victory  in  the  eend  '11  fix 

Where  longest  will  an'  truest  heart  is. 
An'  wut 's  the  Guv'ment  folks  about  ? 

Tryin'  to  hope  ther'  's  nothin'  doin', 
An'  look  ez  though  they  did  n't  doubt 

Sunthin'  pertickler  wuz  a-brewin'. 

Ther'  's  critters  yit  thet  talk  an'  act 

Fer  wut  they  call  Conciliation  ; 
They  'd  hand  a  buff'lo-drove  a  tract 

When  they  wuz  madder  than  all  Bashan. 
Conciliate  ?  it  jest  means  be  kicked, 

No  metter  how  they  phrase  an'  tone  it ; 
It  means  thet  we  're  to  set  down  licked, 

Thet  we  're  poor  shotes  an'  glad  to  own  it ! 


THE   BIGLOW  PAPERS.  257 

A  war  on  tick  's  ez  dear  'z  the  deuce, 

But  it  wun't  leave  no  lastin'  traces, 
Ez  't  would  to  make  a  sneakin'  truce 

Without  no  moral  specie-basis  : 
Ef  greenbacks  ain't  nut  jest  the  cheese, 

I  guess  ther'  's  evils  thet  's  extremer,  — 
Fer  instance,  —  shinplaster  idees 

Like  them  put  out  by  Gov'nor  Seymour. 

Last  year,  the  Nation,  at  a  word, 

When  tremblin'  Freedom  cried  to  shield  her, 
Flamed  weldin'  into  one  keen  sword 

Waitin'  an'  longin'  fer  a  wielder : 
A  splendid  flash !  —  but  how  'd  the  grasp 

With  sech  a  chance  ez  thet  wuz  tally  ? 
Ther'  warn't  no  meanin'  in  our  clasp, — 

Half  this,  half  thet,  all  shilly-shally. 

More  men  ?     More  Man  !     It  's  there  we  fail ; 

Weak  plans  grow  weaker  yit  by  lengthenin' : 
Wut  use  in  addin'  to  the  tail, 

When  it 's  the  head  's  in  need  o'  strengthenin'  ? 
We  wanted  one  thet  felt  all  Chief 

From  roots  o'  hair  to  sole  o'  stockin', 
Square-sot  with  thousan'-ton  belief 

In  him  an'  us,  ef  earth  went  rockin' ! 

Ole  Hick'ry  would  n't  ha'  stood  see-saw 

'Bout  doin'  things  till  they  wuz  done  with,  — 

He  'd  smashed  the  tables  o'  the  Law 
In  time  o'  need  to  load  his  c;un  with  : 


258  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

He  could  n't  see  but  jest  one  side,  — 

Ef  his,  't  wuz  God's,  an'  thet  wuz  plenty  ; 

An'  so  his  "  Forrards  !  "  multiplied 
An  army's  fightin'  weight  by  twenty. 

But  this  'ere  histin',  creak,  creak,  creak, 

Your  cappen's  heart  up  with  a  derrick, 
This  tryin'  to  coax  a  lightnin'-streak 

Out  of  a  half-discouraged  hay-rick, 
This  hangin'  on  mont'  arter  mont' 

Fer  one  sharp  purpose  'mongst  the  twitter,  — 
I  tell  ye,  it  doos  kind  o'  stunt 

The  peth  and  sperit  of  a  critter. 

In  six  months  where  '11  the  People  be, 

Ef  leaders  look  on  revolution 
Ez  though  it  wuz  a  cup  o'  tea,  — 

Jest  social  el'ments  in  solution  ? 
This  weighin'  things  doos  wal  enough 

When  war  cools  down,  an'  comes  to  writm' ; 
But  while  it  's  makin',  the  true  stuff 

Is  pison-mad,  pig-headed  fightin'. 

Democ'acy  gives  every  man 

A  right  to  be  his  own  oppressor ; 
But  a  loose  Gov'ment  ain't  the  plan, 

Helpless  ez  spilled  beans  on  a  dresser 
I  tell  ye  one  thing  we  might  larn 

From  them  smart  critters,  the  Seceders,  — 
Ef  bein'  right  's  the  fust  consarn, 

The  'fore-the-fust  's  cast-iron  leaders. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  259 

But  'pears  to  me  I  see  some  signs 

Thet  we  're  a-goin'  to  use  our  senses : 
Jeff  clruv  us  into  these  hard  lines, 

An'  ough'  to  bear  his  half  th'  expenses  ; 
Slavery  's  Secession's  heart  an'  will, 

South,  North,  East,   West,   where'er  you  find 

it, 
An'  ef  it  drors  into  War's  mill, 

D'  ye  say  them  thunder-stones  sha'  n't  grind  it  ? 

D'  ye  s'pose,  ef  Jeff  giv  him  a  lick, 

Ole  Hick'ry  'd  tried  his  head  to  sof'n 
So  's  't  would  n't  hurt  thet  ebony  stick 

Thet  's  made  our  side  see  stars  so  of 'n  ? 
"  No  !  "  he  'd  ha'  thundered.     "  On  your  knees, 

An'  own  one  flag,  one  road  to  glory  ! 
Soft-heartedness,  in  times  like  these, 

Shows  sof'ness  in  the  upper  story !  " 

An'  why  should  we  kick  up  a  muss 

About  the  Pres'dunt's  proclamation  ? 
It  ain't  a-goin'  to  lib'rate  us, 

Ef  we  don't  like  emancipation  : 
The  right  to  be  a  cussed  fool 

Is  safe  from  all  devices  human, 
It  's  common  (ez  a  gin'l  rule) 

To  every  critter  born  o'  woman. 

So  we  're  all  right,  an'  I,  fer  one, 

Don't  think  our  cause  '11  lose  in  vally 


260  THE   BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

By  rammin'  Scriptur'  in  our  gun, 
An'  gittin'  Natur'  fer  an  ally  : 

Thank  God,  say  I,  fer  even  a  plan 
To  lift  one  human  bein's  level, 

Give  one  more  chance  to  make  a  man, 
Or,  anyhow,  to  spile  a  devil  ! 

Not  thet  I  'm  one  thet  much  expee' 

Millennium  by  express  to-morrer  ; 
They  will  miscarry,  —  I  rec'lec' 

Tu  many  on  'em,  to  my  sorrer  : 
Men  ain't  made  angels  in  a  day, 

•No  matter  how  you  mould  an'  labor  'em, 
Nor  'riginal  ones,  I  guess,  don't  stay 

With  Abe  so  of'n  ez  with  Abraham. 

The'ry  thinks  Fact  a  pooty  thing, 

An'  wants  the  banns  read  right  ensuin' ; 
But  Fact  wun't  noways  wear  the  ring 

'Thout  years  o'  settin'  up  an'  wooin' : 
Though,  arter  all,  Time's  dial-plate 

Marks  cent'ries  with  the  minute-finger, 
An'  Good  can't  never  come  tu  late, 

Though  it  doos  seem  to  try  an'  linger. 

An'  come  wut  will,  I  think  it 's  grand 
Abe  's  gut  his  will  et  last  bloom-furnaced 

In  trial-flames  till  it  '11  stand 

The  strain  o'  bein'  in  deadly  earnest : 

Thet  's  wut  we  want,  —  we  want  to  know 
The  folks  on  our  side  hez  the  bravery 


THE   BIGLOW  PAPERS.  261 

To  b'lieve  ez  hard,  come  weal,  come  woe, 
In  Freedom  ez  Jeff  doos  in  Slavery. 

Set  the  two  forces  foot  to  foot, 

An'  every  man  knows  who  '11  be  winner, 
Whose  faith  in  God  hez  ary  root 

Thet  goes  down  deeper  than  his  dinner : 
Then  't  will  be  felt  from  pole  to  pole, 

Without  no  need  o'  proclamation, 
Earth's  Biggest  Country  's  gut  her  soul 

An'  risen  up  Earth's  Greatest  Nation ! 


No.  VIII. 
KETTELOPOTOMACHIA. 

PRELIMINARY    NOTE. 

IN  the  month  of  February,  1866,  the  ed 
itors  of  the  "  Atlantic  Monthly "  received 
from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hitchcock  of  Jaalam  a 
letter  enclosing  the  macaronic  verses  which 
follow,  and  promising  to  send  more,  if  more 
should  be  communicated.  "  They  were 
rapped  out  on  the  evening  of  Thursday  last 
past,"  he  says,  "  by  what  claimed  to  be  the 
spirit  of  my  late  predecessor  in  the  ministry 
here,  the  liev.  Dr.  Wilbur,  through  the  me 
dium  of  a  young  man  at  present  domiciled 
in  my  family.  As  to  the  possibility  of  such 
spiritual  manifestations,  or  whether  they  be 
properly  so  entitled,  I  express  no  opinion,  as 
there  is  a  division  of  sentiment  on  that  sub 
ject  in  the  parish,  and  many  persons  of  the 
highest  respectability  in  social  standing  en 
tertain  opposing  views.  The  young  man  who 
was  improved  as  a  medium  submitted  himself 
to  the  experiment  with  manifest  reluctance, 


THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS.  263 

and  is  still  unprepared  to  believe  in  the  au 
thenticity  of  the  manifestations.  During  his 
residence  with  me  his  deportment  has  always 
been  exemplary  ;  he  has  been  constant  in  his 
attendance  upon  our  family  devotions  and 
the  public  ministrations  of  the  Word,  and 
has  more  than  once  privately  stated  to  me 
that  the  latter  had  often  brought  him  under 
deep  concern  of  mind.  The  table  is  an  or 
dinary  quadrupedal  one,  weighing  about 
thirty  pounds,  three  feet  seven  inches  and  an 
half  in  height,  four  feet  square  on  the  top, 
and  of  beech  or  maple,  I  am  not  definitely 
prepared  to  say  which.  It  had  once  belonged 
to  my  respected  predecessor,  and  had  been, 
so  far  as  I  can  learn  upon  careful  inquiry,  of 
perfectly  regular  and  correct  habits  up  to 
the  evening  in  question.  On  that  occasion 
the  young  man  previously  alluded  to  had 
been  sitting  with  his  hands  resting  carelessly 
upon  it,  while  I  read  over  to  him  at  his  re 
quest  certain  portions  of  my  last  Sabbath's 
discourse.  On  a  sudden  the  rappings,  as 
they  are  called,  commenced  to  render  them 
selves  audible,  at  first  faintly,  but  in  process 
of  time  more  distinctly  and  with  violent  agi 
tation  of  the  table.  The  young  man  ex 
pressed  himself  both  surprised  and  pained 


264  THE  El  GLOW  PAPERS. 

by  the  wholly  unexpected,  and  so  far  as  he 
was  concerned  unprecedented  occurrence.  At 
the  earnest  solicitation,  however,  of  several 
who  happened  to  be  present,  he  consented 
to  go  on  with  the  experiment,  and  with  the 
assistance  of  the  alphabet  commonly  em 
ployed  in  similar  emergencies,  the  following 
communication  was  obtained  and  written 
down  immediately  by  myself.  Whether 
any,  and  if  so,  how  much  weight  should  be 
attached  to  it,  I  venture  no  decision.  That 
Dr.  Wilbur  had  sometimes  employed  his 
leisure  in  Latin  versification  I  have  ascer 
tained  to  be  the  case,  though  all  that  has 
been  discovered  of  that  nature  among  his  pa 
pers  consists  of  some  fragmentary  passages  of 
a  version  into  hexameters  of  portions  of  the 
Song  of  Solomon.  These  I  had  communi 
cated  about  a  week  or  ten  days  previous  [ly] 
to  the  young  gentleman  who  officiated  as 
medium  in  the  communication  afterwards 
received.  I  have  thus,  I  believe,  stated  all 
the  material  facts  that  have  any  elucidative 
bearing  upon  this  mysterious  occurrence." 

So  far  Mr.  Hitchcock,  who  seems  perfectly 
master  of  Webster's  unabridged  quarto,  and 
whose  flowing  style  leads  him  into  certain 
further  expatiations  for  which  we  have  not 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  265 

room.  We  have  since  learned  that  the 
young  man  he  speaks  of  was  a  sophomore, 
put  under  his  care  during  a  sentence  of  rus 
tication  from College,  where  he  had 

distinguished  himself  rather  by  physical  ex 
periments  on  the  comparative  power  of  resis 
tance  in  window-glass  to  various  solid  sub 
stances  than  in  the  more  regular  studies  of 
the  place.  In  answer  to  a  letter  of  inquiry, 
the  professor  of  Latin  says,  "  There  was  no 
harm  in  the  boy  that  I  know  of  beyond  his 
loving  mischief  more  than  Latin,  nor  can  I 
think  of  any  spirits  likely  to  possess  him  ex 
cept  those  commonly  called  animal.  He  was 
certainly  not  remarkable  for  his  Latinity, 
but  I  see  nothing  in  verses  you  enclose  that 
would  lead  me  to  think  them  beyond  his  ca 
pacity,  or  the  result  of  any  special  inspira 
tion  whether  of  beech  or  maple.  Had  that 
of  birch  been  tried  upon  him  earlier  and 
more  faithfully,  the  verses  would  perhaps 
have  been  better  in  quality  and  certainly  in 
quantity."  This  exact  and  thorough  scholar 
then  goes  on  to  point  out  many  false  quanti 
ties  and  barbarisms.  It  is  but  fair  to  say, 
however,  that  the  author,  whoever  he  was, 
seems  not  to  have  been  unaware  of  some  of 
them  himself,  as  is  shown  by  a  great  many 


266  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

notes  appended  to  the  verses  as  we  received 
them,  and  purporting  to  be  by  Scaliger, 
Bentley  and  others,  —  among  them  the  Es 
prit  de  Voltaire!  These  we  have  omitted 
as  clearly  meant  to  be  humorous  and  alto 
gether  failing  therein. 

Though  entirely  satisfied  that  the  verses 
are  altogether  unworthy  of  Mr.  Wilbur, 
who  seems  to  have  been  a  tolerable  Latin 
scholar  after  the  fashion  of  his  day,  yet  we 
have  determined  to  print  them  here  partly 
as  belonging  to  the  res  gestce  of  this  collec 
tion,  and  partly  as  a  warning  to  their  puta 
tive  author  which  may  keep  him  from  such 
indecorous  pranks  for  the  future. 


KETTELOPOTOMACHIA. 

P.  Ovidii  Nasonis  carmen  heroicum  macaronicum  perplex- 
ametrum,  inter  Getas  getico  more  compostum,  denuo  per  me 
dium  ardentispiritualem,  adjuvante  mensa  diabolice  obsessa, 
recuperatum,  curaque  Jo.  Conradi  Schwarzii  umbras,  aliis 
necnon  plurimis  adjuvantibus,  restitutum. 

LIBEK   I. 

PtnsrCTOKUM  garretos  colens  et  cellara  Quinque, 
Gutteribus  quse  et  gaudes   sundayam  abstingere 
frontem, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  267 

Plerumque  insidos  solita  fluitare  liquore 
Tanglepedem  quern  homines  appellant  Di  quoque 

rotgut, 
Pimpliidis,    rubicundaque,    Musa,    O,    bourbono- 

lensque,  s 

Fenianas  rixas  procul,  alma,  brogipotentis 
Patricii  cyathos  iterantis  et  horrida  bella, 
Backos  dum  virides  viridis  brigitta  remittit, 
Linquens,  eximios  celebrem,  da,  Virginiensea 
Rowdes,  prsecipue  et  TE,  heros  alte,  Polarde  !     10 
Insignes  juvenesque,  illo  certamine  h'ctos, 
Colemane,  Tylere,  nee  vos  oblivione  relinquam. 

Ainpla  aquilae    invictae    fausto    est   sub   tegmine 

terra, 

Backyfer,  ooiskeo  pollens,  ebenoque  bipede, 
Socors    prsesidum    et   altrix    (denique   quidrumi- 
naatium),  is 

Duplefveorum  uberrima ;  illis  et  integre  cordi  est 
Deplere  assidue  et  sine  proprio  incommodo  fis- 

cum  ; 

Nunc  etiam  placidum  hoc  opus  invictique  secuti, 
Goosam  aureos  ni  eggos  voluissent  immo  necare 
Quae  peperit,   saltern  ac   de  illis  meliora  meren- 
tem.  20 

Condidit  hanc  Smithius  Dux,  Captinus  inclytus 

ille 

Regis  Ulyssae  instar,  docti   arcum  intendere  Ion- 
gum ; 
Condidit  ille  Johnsmith,  Virginiamque  vocavit, 


268  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Settledit  autem  Jacobus  rex,  nomine  primus, 
Rascalis  implens  ruptis,  blagardisque  deboshtis,  25 
Militibusque  ex  Falstaffi  legione  fugatis 
Wenchisque  illi  quas  poterant  seducere  nuptas  ; 
Virgineum,  ah,  littus  matronis  talibus  impar ! 
Progeniem  stirpe  ex  hoc  non  sine  stigmate  ducunt 
Multi  sese  qui  jactant  regum  esse  nepotes  :  so 

Haud  omnes,  Mater,  genitos  quae  nuper  habebas 
Bello  fortes,  consilio  cautos,  virtute  decoros, 
Jamque  et  habes,  sparso  si  patrio  in  sanguine  vir 
tus, 

Mostrabisque  iterum,  antiquis  sub  astris  reducta  ! 
De  illis  qui  upkikitant,  dicebam,  rumpora  tanta,  ss 
Letcheris  et  Floydis  magnisque  Extra  ordine  Bil- 

lis  ; 

Est  his  prisca  fides  jurare  et  breakere  wordum  ; 
Poppere  fellerum  a  tergo,  aut  stickere  clam  bowi- 

knifo, 

Haud  sane  facinus,  dignum  sed  victrice  lauro  ; 
Larrupere  et  nigerum,  factum  praestantius  ullo  :   40 
Ast   chlamydem   piciplumatam,   Icariam,  flito   et 

ineptam, 

Yanko  gratis  induere,  ilium  et  valido  railo 
Insuper  acri  equitare  docere  est  hospitio  uti. 

Nescio  an  ille  Polardus  duplefveoribus  ortus, 
Sed  reputo  potius  de  radice  poorwitemanorum ;  « 
Fortuiti  proles,  ni  fallor,  Tylerus  erat 
Praesidis,  omnibus  ab  Whiggis  nominatus  a  poor 

cuss ; 
Et  nobilem  tertium  evincit  venerabile  nomen. 


THE  BIGLO  W  PAPERS.  269 

Ast  animosi  omnes  bellique  acl  tympana  ha  !  ha  ! 
Vociferant  laeti,  procul  et  si  prcelia,  sive  » 

Hostem  incautum  atsito  possunt  shootere  salvi ; 
Imperiique  capaces,  esset  si  stylus  agmen, 
Pro  dulci  spoliabant  et  sine  dangere  fito. 
Free  ceterisque  Polardus  :  si  Secessia  licta, 
Se  nunquam  licturum  jurat,  res  et  unheardof,      « 
Verbo  haesit,  similisque  audaci  roosteri  invicto, 
Dunghilli  solitus  rex  pullos  whoppere  molles, 
Grantum,  hirelingos  stripes  quique  et  splendida 

tollunt 
Sidera,  et  Yankos,  territum  et  omnem  sarsuit  or- 

bem. 
Usque   dabant  operam  isti    omnes,  noctesque, 

diesque,  «o 

Samuelem  demulgere  avunculum,  id  vero  siccum ; 
Uberibus  sed  ejus,  et  horum  est  culpa,  remotis, 
Parvam   domi  vaccam,  nee  mora  minima,  quae- 

runt, 
Lacticarentem  autem  et  droppam  vix  in  die  dan- 

tem  ; 
Reddite   avunculi,   et   exclamabant,  reddite   pap- 

pam !  6,5 

Polko  ut  consule,  gemens,  Billy  immurmurat  Ex 
tra  ; 

Echo  respondit,  thesauro  ex  vacuo,  pappam ! 
Frustra  explorant  pocketa,  ruber  nare  repertum ; 
Officia  expulsi  aspiciunt  rapta,  et  Paradisum 
Occlusum,  viriclesqtie  haud  illis  nascere  backos ;  ro 
Stupent  tune  oculis  madidis  spittantque  silenter. 


270  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Adhibere  usu  ast  longo  vires  prorsus  inepti, 
Si  non  ut  qui  grindeat  axve  traberave  revolvat, 
Virginiam   excruciant  totis   nunc  mightibu'   ma- 

trem  ; 

Non  melius,  puta,  nono  panis  dimidiumne  est  ?    75 
Readere  ibi  non  posse  est  casus  commoner  ullo  ; 
Tanto  intentius  imprimere  est  opus  ergo  statuta ; 
Nemo  propterea  pejor,  melior,  sine  doubto, 
Obtineat  qui  contractum,  si  et  postea  rhino  ; 
Ergo  Polardus,  si  quis,  inexsuperabilis  heros,      so 
Colemanus  impavidus  nondum,  atque  in  purpure 

natus 

Tylerus  lohanides  celerisque  in  flito  Nathaniel, 
Quisque  optans  digitos  in  tantum  stickere  pium, 
Adstant  accincti  imprimere  aut  perrumpere  leges : 
Quales  os  miserum  rabidi  tres  segre  molossi,        ss 
Quales  aut  dubium  textum  atra  in  veste  ministri, 
Tales  circumstabant  nunc  nostri  inopes  hoc  job. 

Hisque  Polardus  voce  canoro  talia  fatus : 
Primum  autem,  veluti  est  mos,  prseceps  quisque 

liquorat, 

Quisque  et  Nicotianum  ingens  quid  inserit  atrum, 
Heroum  nitidum  decus  et  solamen  avitum,  9i 

Masticat  ac  simul  altisonans,  spittatque  profuse  : 
Quis  de  Virginia  meruit  praestantius  unquam  ? 
Quis  se  pro  patria  curavit  impigre  tutum  ? 
Speechisque    articulisque    hominum    quis   fortior 

ullus,  95 

Ingeminans  pennae  lickos  et  vulnera  vocis  ? 
Quisnam  putidius  (hie)  sarsuit  Yankinimicos, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  271 

Ssepius  aut  dedit  ultro  datam  et  broke  his  paro- 

lam? 

Mente  inquassatus  solidaque,  tyranno  minante, 
Horrisonis    (hie)    bomhis    mcenia    et    alta    qua- 

tente,  100 

Sese  promptum  (hie)  jactans  Yankos  lickere  cen 
tum, 
Atque    ad   lastum    invictus    non   surrendidit  un- 

quam  ? 
Ergo  haud  meddlite,  posco,  mique  relinquite  (hie) 

hoc  job, 
Si  non  —  knifumque  enormem  mostrat  spittatque 

tremendus. 

Dixerat :  ast  alii  reliquorant  et  sine  pauso      i<» 
Pluggos  incumbunt  maxillis,  uterque  vicissim 
Certamine  innocuo  valde  madidam  inquinat  as- 

sem : 

Tylerus  autem,  dumque  liquorat  aridus  hostis, 
Mirum    aspicit    duplumque     bibentem,    astante 

Lyseo ; 
Ardens  impavidusque    edidit  tamen   impia   ver- 

ba ;  no 

Duplum  quamvis  te  aspicio,  esses  atque  viginti, 
Mendacem  dicerem  totumque    (hie)  thrasherem 

acervum  ; 
Nempe  et  thrasham,  doggonatus    (hie)  aim  nisi 

faxem ; 
Lambastabo  omnes  catawompositer-(hie)-que  cha- 

wam ! 
Dixit  et  impulsus  Ryeo  ruitur  bene  titus,  us 


272  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Uli    nam   gravidum  caput  et   laterem    habet   in 

hatto. 

Hunc  inhiat  titubansque  Polardus,  optat   et  il 
ium 

Stickere  inermem,  protegit  autem  rite  Lyaeus, 
Et  pronos  geminos,  oculis  dubitantibus,  heros 
Cernit  et  irritus  hostes,  dumque  excogitat  utrum 
Primum   inpitchere,  corruit,  inter    utrosque    re- 
cumbit,  121 

Magno  asino  similis  nimio  sub  pondere  quassus : 
Colemanus  hos  moestus,  triste  ruminansque  sola- 
men, 

Inspicit  hiccans,  circumspittat  terque  cubantes  ; 
Funereisque  his  ritibus  humidis  inde  solutis,       125 
Sternitur,  invalidusque  illis  superincidit  infans  ; 
Hos  sepelit  somnus  et  snorunt  cornisonantes, 
Watchmanus  inscios  ast  calybooso  deinde  reponit. 


No.  IX. 

[THE  Editors  of  the  "  Atlantic  "  have  received  so 
many  letters  of  inquiry  concerning  the  literary  re 
mains  of  the  late  Mr.  Wilbur,  mentioned  by  his  col 
league  and  successor,  Rev.  Jeduthun  Hitchcock,  in  a 
communication  from  which  we  made  some  extracts 
in  our  number  for  February,  1863,  and  have  been  so 
repeatedly  urged  to  print  some  part  of  them  for  the 
gratification  of  the  public,  that  they  felt  it  their  duty 
at  least  to  make  some  effort  to  satisfy  so  urgent  a  de 
mand.  They  have  accordingly  carefully  examined 
the  papers  intrusted  to  them,  but  find  most  of  the 
productions  of  Mr.  Wilbur's  pen  so  fragmentary,  and 
even  chaotic,  written  as  they  are  on  the  backs  of  let 
ters  in  an  exceedingly  cramped  chirography,  —  here 
a  memorandum  for  a  sermon  ;  there  an  observation 
of  the  weather  ;  now  the  measurement  of  an  extraor 
dinary  head  of  cabbage,  and  then  of  the  cerebral 
capacity  of  some  reverend  brother  deceased  ;  a  calm 
inquiry  into  the  state  of  modern  literature,  ending  in 
a  method  of  detecting  if  milk  be  impoverished  with 
water,  and  the  amount  thereof  ;  one  leaf  beginning 
with  a  genealogy,  to  be  interrupted  half-way  down 
with  an  entry  that  the  brindle  cow  had  calved,  —  that 
any  attempts  at  selection  seemed  desperate.  His 
only  complete  work,  ' '  An  Enquiry  concerning  the 
Tenth  Horn  of  the  Beast,"  even  in  the  abstract  of  it 
given  by  Mr.  Hitchcock,  would,  by  a  rough  computa 
tion  of  the  printers,  fill  five  entire  numbers  of  our 


274  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

journal,  and  as  he  attempts,  by  a  new  application  of 
decimal  fractions,  to  identify  it  with  the  Emperor 
Julian,  seems  hardly  of  immediate  concern  to  the 
general  reader.  Even  the  Table-Talk,  though  doubt 
less  originally  highly  interesting  in  the  domestic  cir 
cle,  is  so  largely  made  up  of  theological  discussion 
and  matters  of  local  or  preterite  interest,  that  we 
have  found  it  hard  to  extract  anything  that  would  at 
all  satisfy  expectation.  But,  in  order  to  silence 
further  inquiry,  we  subjoin  a  few  passages  as  illus 
trations  of  its  general  character.] 

I  think  I  could  go  near  to  be  a  perfect 
Christian  if  I  were  always  a  visitor,  as  I 
have  sometimes  been,  at  the  house  of  some 
hospitable  friend.  I  can  show  a  great  deal 
of  self-denial  where  the  best  of  everything 
is  urged  upon  me  with  kindly  importunity. 
It  is  not  so  very  hard  to  turn  the  other 
cheek  for  a  kiss.  And  when  I  meditate 
upon  the  pains  taken  for  our  entertainment 
in  this  life,  on  the  endless  variety  of  seasons, 
of  human  character  and  fortune,  on  the  cost 
liness  of  the  hangings  and  furniture  of  our 
dwelling  here,  I  sometimes  feel  a  singular  joy 
in  looking  upon  myself  as  God's  guest,  and 
cannot  but  believe  that  we  should  all  be  wiser 
and  happier,  because  more  grateful,  if  we 
were  always  mindful  of  our  privilege  in  this 
regard.  And  should  we  not  rate  more  cheaply 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  275 

any  honor  that  men  could  pay  us,  if  we  re 
membered  that  every  day  we  sat  at  the  table 
of  the  Great  King  ?  Yet  must  we  not  forget 
that  we  are  in  strictest  bonds  His  servants 
also ;  for  there  is  no  impiety  so  abject  as 
that  which  expects  to  be  dead-headed  {ut 
ita  dicani)  through  life,  and  which,  calling 
itself  trust  in  Providence,  is  in  reality  ask 
ing  Providence  to  trust  us  and  taking  up  all 
our  goods  on  false  pretences.  It  is  a  wise 
rule  to  take  the  world  as  we  find  it,  not  al 
ways  to  leave  it  so. 

It  has  often  set  me  thinking  when  I  find 
that  I  can  always  pick  up  plenty  of  empty 
nuts  under  my  shagbark-tree.  The  squirrels 
know  them  by  their  lightness,  and  I  have  sel 
dom  seen  one  with  the  marks  of  their  teeth 
in  it.  What  a  school-house  is  the  world,  if 
our  wits  would  only  not  play  truant  I  For 
I  observe  that  men  set  most  store  by  forms 
and  symbols  in  proportion  as  they  are  mere 
shells.  It  is  the  outside  they  want  and  not 
the  kernel.  What  stores  of  such  do  not 
many,  who  in  material  things  are  as  shrewd 
as  the  squirrels,  lay  up  for  the  spiritual  win 
ter-supply  of  themselves  and  their  children  ! 
I  have  seen  churches  that  seemed  to  me 
garners  of  these  withered  nuts,  for  it  is  won- 


276  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

derful  how  prosaic  is  the  apprehension  of 
symbols  by  the  minds  of  most  men.  It  is 
not  one  sect  nor  another,  but  all,  who,  like 
the  dog  of  the  fable,  have  let  drop  the  spir 
itual  substance  of  symbols  for  their  material 
shadow.  If  one  attribute  miraculous  virtues 
to  mere  holy  water,  that  beautiful  emblem 
of  inward  purification  at  the  door  of  God's 
house,  another  cannot  comprehend  the  sig 
nificance  of  baptism  without  being  ducked 
over  head  and  ears  in  the  liquid  vehicle 
thereof. 

[Perhaps  a  word  of  historical  comment 
may  be  permitted  here.  My  late  revered 
predecessor  was,  I  would  humbly  affirm, 
as  free  from  prejudice  as  falls  to  the  lot  of 
the  most  highly  favored  individuals  of  our 
species.  To  be  sure,  I  have  heard  him  say 
that  "what  were  called  strong  prejudices 
were  in  fact  only  the  repulsion  of  sensitive 
organizations  from  that  moral  and  even 
physical  effluvium  by  which  some  natures 
by  providential  appointment,  like  certain 
unsavory  quadrupeds,  gave  warning  of  their 
neighborhood.  Better  ten  mistaken  suspi 
cions  of  this  kind  than  one  close  encounter." 
This  he  said  somewhat  in  heat,  on  being 
questioned  as  to  his  motives  for  always  re- 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  277 

fusing  his  pulpit  to  those  itinerant  profes 
sors  of  vicarious  benevolence  who  end  their 
discourses  by  taking  up  a  collection.  But 
at  another  time  I  remember  his  saying 
"  that  there  was  one  large  thing  which  small 
minds  always  found  room  for,  and  that  was 
great  prejudices."  This,  however,  by  the 
way.  The  statement  which  I  purposed  to 
make  was  simply  this.  Down  to  A.  D.  1830, 
Jaalam  had  consisted  of  a  single  parish, 
with  one  house  set  apart  for  religious  ser 
vices.  In  that  year  the  foundations  of  a 
Baptist  Society  were  laid  by  the  labors  of 
Elder  Joash  Q.  Balcom,  2d.  As  the  mem 
bers  of  the  new  body  were  drawn  from  the 
First  Parish,  Mr.  Wilbur  was  for  a  time 
considerably  exercised  in  mind.  He  even 
went  so  far  as  on  one  occasion  to  follow  the 
reprehensible  practice  of  the  earlier  Puritan 
divines  in  choosing  a  punning  text,  and 
preached  from  Hebrews  xiii.  9 :  "Be  not 
carried  about  with  divers  and  strange  doc 
trines."  He  afterwards,  in  accordance  with 
one  of  his  own  maxims,  — "  to  get  a  dead 
injury  out  of  the  mind  as  soon  as  is  decent, 
bury  it,  and  then  ventilate,"  —  in  accordance 
with  this  maxim,  I  say,  he  lived  on  very 
friendly  terms  with  Rev.  Shear jashub  Scrim- 


278  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

gour,  present  pastor  of  the  Baptist  Society 
in  Jaalam.  Yet  I  think  it  was  never  un- 
pleasing  to  him  that  the  church  edifice  of 
that  society  (though  otherwise  a  creditable 
specimen  of  architecture)  remained  without 
a  bell,  as  indeed  it  does  to  this  day.  So 
much  seemed  necessary  to  do  away  with  any 
appearance  of  acerbity  toward  a  respect 
able  community  of  professing  Christians, 
which  might  be  suspected  in  the  conclusion 
of  the  above  paragraph.  J.  H.] 

In  lighter  moods  he  was  not  averse  from 
an  innocent  play  upon  words.  Looking  up 
from  his  newspaper  one  morning  as  I  en 
tered  his  study  he  said,  "  When  I  read  a  de 
bate  in  Congress,  I  feel  as  if  I  were  sitting 
at  the  feet  of  Zeno  in  the  shadow  of  the 
Portico."  On  my  expressing  a  natural  sur 
prise,  he  added,  smiling,  "  Why,  at  such 
times  the  only  view  which  honorable  mem 
bers  give  me  of  what  goes  on  in  the  world 
is  through  their  intercalumniations."  I 
smiled  at  this  after  a  moment's  reflection, 
and  he  added  gravely,  "  The  most  punctil 
ious  refinement  of  manners  is  the  only  salt 
that  will  keep  a  democracy  from  stinking ; 
and  what  are  we  to  expect  from  the  people, 
if  their  representatives  set  them  such  les- 


THE  El  GLOW  PAPERS.  279 

sons  ?  Mr.  Everett's  whole  life  has  been  a 
sermon  from  this  text.  There  was,  at  least, 
this  advantage  in  duelling,  that  it  set  a  cer 
tain  limit  on  the  tongue."  In  this  connec 
tion,  I  may  be  permitted  to  recall  a  playful 
remark  of  his  upon  another  occasion.  The 
painful  divisions  in  the  First  Parish,  A.  D. 
1844,  occasioned  by  the  wild  notions  in  re 
spect  to  the  rights  of  (what  Mr.  Wilbur,  so 
far  as  concerned  the  reasoning  faculty,  al 
ways  called)  the  unfairer  part  of  creation, 
put  forth  by  Miss  Parthenia  Almira  Fitz, 
are  too  well  known  to  need  more  than  a 
passing  allusion.  It  was  during  these  heats, 
long  since  happily  allayed,  that  Mr.  Wilbur 
remarked  that  "  the  Church  had  more  trou 
ble  in  dealing  with  one  sAeresiarch  than  with 
twenty  /ieresiarchs,"  and  that  the  men's  con- 
scia  recti,  or  certainty  of  being  right,  was 
nothing  to  the  women's. 

When  I  once  asked  his  opinion  of  a  poeti 
cal  composition  on  which  I  had  expended  no 
little  pains,  he  read  it  attentively,  and  then 
remarked,  "  Unless  one's  thought  pack  more 
neatly  in  verse  than  in  prose,  it  is  wiser  to 
refrain.  Commonplace  gains  nothing  by  be 
ing  translated  into  rhyme,  for  it  is  something 


280  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

which  no  hocus-pocus  can  transubstantiate 
with  the  real  presence  of  living  thought. 
You  entitle  your  piece,  '  My  Mother's 
Grave,'  and  expend  four  pages  of  useful 
paper  in  detailing  your  emotions  there.  But, 
my  dear  sir,  watering  does  not  improve  the 
quality  of  ink,  even  though  you  should  do 
it  with  tears.  To  publish  a  sorrow  to  Tom, 
Dick,  and  Harry  is  in  some  sort  to  adver 
tise  its  unreality,  for  I  have  observed  in  my 
intercourse  with  the  afflicted  that  the  deep 
est  grief  instinctively  hides  its  face  with 
its  hands  and  is  silent.  If  your  piece  were 
printed,  I  have  no  doubt  it  would  be  popular, 
for  people  like  to  fancy  that  they  feel  much 
better  than  the  trouble  of  feeling.  I  would 
put  all  poets  on  oath  whether  they  have 
striven  to  say  everything  they  possibly  could 
think  of,  or  to  leave  out  all  they  could  not 
help  saying.  In  your  own  case,  my  wor 
thy  young  friend,  what  you  have  written  is 
merely  a  deliberate  exercise,  the  gymnastic 
of  sentiment.  For  your  excellent  maternal 
relative  is  still  alive,  and  is  to  take  tea  with 
me  this  evening,  D.  V.  Beware  of  simu 
lated  feeling ;  it  is  hypocrisy's  first  cousin ; 
it  is  especially  dangerous  to  a  preacher  ;  for 
he  who  says  one  day,  '  Go  to,  let  me  seem  to 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  281 

be  pathetic,'  may  be  nearer  than  he  thinks 
to  saying, '  Go  to,  let  me  seem  to  be  virtuous, 
or  earnest,  or  under  sorrow  for  sin.'  Depend 
upon  it,  Sappho  loved  her  verses  more  sin 
cerely  than  she  did  Phaon,  and  Petrarch  his 
sonnets  better  than  Laura,  who  was  indeed 
but  his  poetical  stalking-horse.  After  you 
shall  have  once  heard  that  muffled  rattle  of 
the  clods  on  the  coffin-lid  of  an  irreparable 
loss,  you  will  grow  acquainted  with  a  pathos 
that  will  make  all  elegies  hateful.  When  I 
was  of  your  age,  I  also  for  a  time  mistook 
my  desire  to  write  verses  for  an  authentic 
call  of  my  nature  in  that  direction.  But  one 
day  as  I  was  going  forth  for  a  walk,  with 
my  head  full  of  an  '  Elegy  on  the  death  of 
Flirtilla,'  and  vainly  groping  after  a  rhyme 
for  lily  that  should  not  be  silly  or  chilly,  I 
saw  my  eldest  boy  Homer  busy  over  the  rain 
water  hogshead,  in  that  childish  experiment 
at  parthenogenesis,  the  changing  a  horsehair 
into  a  water-snake.  An  immersion  of  six 
weeks  showed  no  change  in  the  obstinate  fil 
ament.  Here  was  a  stroke  of  unintended 
sarcasm.  Had  I  not  been  doing  in  my  study 
precisely  what  my  boy  was  doing  out  of 
doors  ?  Had  my  thoughts  any  more  chance 
of  coming  to  life  by  being  submerged  in 


282  THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS. 

rhyme  than  his  hair  by  soaking  in  water  ? 
I  burned  my  elegy  and  took  a  course  of  Ed 
wards  on  the  Will.  People  do  not  make 
poetry  ;  it  is  made  out  of  them  by  a  process 
for  which  I  do  not  find  myself  fitted.  Never 
theless,  the  writing  of  verses  is  a  good  rhetor 
ical  exercitation^  as  teaching  us  what  to  shun 
most  carefully  in  prose.  For  prose  bewitched 
is  like  window-glass  with  bubbles  in  it,  dis 
torting  what  it  should  show  with  pellucid 
veracity." 

It  is  unwise  to  insist  on  doctrinal  points 
as  vital  to  religion.  The  Bread  of  Life  is 
wholesome  and  sufficing  in  itself,  but  gulped 
down  with  these  kickshaws  cooked  up  by 
theologians,  it  is  apt  to  produce  an  indiges 
tion,  nay,  even  at  last  an  incurable  dyspepsia 
of  skepticism. 

One  of  the  most  inexcusable  weaknesses 
of  Americans  is  in  signing  their  names  to 
what  are  called  credentials.  But  for  my  in 
terposition,  a  person  who  shall  be  nameless 
would  have  taken  from  this  town  a  recom 
mendation  for  an  office  of  trust  subscribed 
by  the  selectmen  and  all  the  voters  of  both 
parties,  ascribing  to  him  as  many  good  qual- 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  283 

ities  as  if  it  had  been  his  tombstone.  The 
excuse  was  that  it  would  be  well  for  the  town 
to  be  rid  of  him,  as  it  would  erelong  be 
obliged  to  maintain  him.  I  would  not  refuse 
my  name  to  modest  merit,  but  I  would  be  as 
cautious  as  in  signing  a  bond.  [I  trust  I 
shall  be  subjected  to  no  imputation  of  un 
becoming  vanity,  if  I  mention  the  fact  that 
Mr.  W.  indorsed  my  own  qualifications  as 
teacher  of  the  high-school  at  Pequash  Junc 
tion.  J.  H.J  When  I  see  a  certificate  of 
character  with  everybody's  name  to  it,  I  re 
gard  it  as  a  letter  of  introduction  from  the 
Devil.  Never  give  a  man  your  name  unless 
you  are  willing  to  trust  him  with  your  repu 
tation. 

There  seem  nowadays  to  be  two  sources 
of  literary  inspiration,  —  fulness  of  mind 
and  emptiness  of  pocket. 

I  am  often  struck,  especially  in  reading 
Montaigne,  with  the  obviousness  and  famil 
iarity  of  a  great  writer's  thoughts,  and  the 
freshness  they  gain  because  said  by  him. 
The  truth  is,  we  mix  their  greatness  with  all 
they  say  and  give  it  our  best  attention.  Jo 
hannes  Faber  sic  cogitavit,  would  be  no  en- 


THE   BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

ticing  preface  to  a  book,  but  an  accredited 
name  gives  credit  like  the  signature  of  a 
note  of  hand.  It  is  the  advantage  of  fame 
that  it  is  always  privileged  to  take  the  world 
by  the  button,  and  a  thing  is  weightier  for 
Shakespeare's  uttering  it  by  the  whole 
amount  of  his  personality. 

It  is  singular  how  impatient  men  are  with 
overpraise  of  others,  how  patient  with  over 
praise  of  themselves ;  and  yet  the  one  does 
them  no  injury,  while  the  other  may  be  their 
ruin. 

People  are  apt  to  confound  mere  alertness 
of  mind  with  attention.  The  one  is  but  the 
flying  abroad  of  all  the  faculties  to  the  open 
doors  and  windows  at  every  passing  rumor ; 
the  other  is  the  concentration  of  every  one 
of  them  in  a  single  focus,  as  in  the  alchemist 
over  his  alembic  at  the  moment  of  expected 
projection.  Attention  is  the  stuff  that  mem 
ory  is  made  of,  and  memory  is  accumulated 
genius. 

Do  not  look  for  the  Millennium  as  immi 
nent.  One  generation  is  apt  to  get  all  the 
wear  it  can  out  of  the  cast  clothes  of  the 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  285 

last,  and  is  always  sure  to  use  up  every  pal 
ing  of  the  old  fence  that  will  hold  a  nail  in 
building  the  new. 

You  suspect  a  kind  of  vanity  in  my  gene 
alogical  enthusiasm.  Perhaps  you  are  right ; 
but  it  is  a  universal  foible.  Where  it  does 
not  show  itself  in  a  personal  and  private 
way,  it  becomes  public  and  gregarious. 
We  flatter  ourselves  in  the  Pilgrim  Fathers, 
and  the  Virginian  offshoot  of  a  transported 
convict  swells  with  the  fancy  of  a  cavalier 
ancestry.  Pride  of  birth,  I  have  noticed, 
takes  two  forms.  One  complacently  traces 
himself  up  to  a  coronet ;  another,  defiantly, 
to  a  lapstone.  The  sentiment  is  precisely 
the  same  in  both  cases,  only  that  one  is 
the  positive  and  the  other  the  negative  pole 
of  it. 

Seeing  a  goat  the  other  day  kneeling  in 
order  to  graze  with  less  trouble,  it  seemed  to 
me  a  type  of  the  common  notion  of  prayer. 
Most  people  are  ready  enough  to  go  down 
on  their  knees  for  material  blessings,  but 
how  few  for  those  spiritual  gifts  which  alone 
are  an  answer  to  our  orisons,  if  we  but 
knew  it ! 


286  THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS. 

Some  people,  nowadays,  seem  to  have  hit 
upon  a  new  moralization  of  the  moth  and 
the  candle.  They  would  lock  up  the  light 
of  Truth,  lest  poor  Psyche  should  put  it  out 
in  her  effort  to  draw  nigh  to  it. 


No.  X. 

MR.  HOSEA  BIGLOW  TO  THE  EDITOR 
OF  THE  ATLANTIC   MONTHLY. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Your  letter  come  to  han', 

Requestin'  me  to  please  be  funny ; 
But  I  ain't  made  upon  a  plan 

Thet  knows  wut  's  comin',  gall  or  honey  : 
Ther'  's  times  the  world  doos  look  so  queer, 

Odd  fancies  come  afore  I  call  'em ; 
An'  then  agin,  for  half  a  year, 

No  preacher  'thout  a  call 's  more  solemn. 

You  're  'n  want  o'  sunthin'  light  an'  cute, 

Rattlin'  an'  slirewd  an'  kin'  o'  jingleish, 
An'  wish,  pervidin'  it  'ould  suit, 

I  'd  take  an'  citify  my  English. 
I  ken  write  long-tailed,  ef  I  please,  — 

But  when  I  'm  jokin',  no,  I  thankee ; 
Then,  'fore  I  know  it,  my  idees 

Run  helter-skelter  into  Yankee. 

Sence  I  begun  to  scribble  rhyme, 

I  tell  ye  wut,  I  hain't  ben  foolin'  ; 
The  parson's  books,  life,  death,  an'  time 

Hev  took  some  trouble  with  my  schoolin' ; 


288  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Nor  th'  airth  don't  git  put  out  with  me, 
Thet  love  her  'z  though  she  wuz  a  woman ; 

Why,  th'  ain't  a  bird  upon  the  tree 
But  half  forgives  my  bein'  human. 

An'  yit  I  love  th'  unhighschooled  way 

Ol'  farmers  hed  when  I  wuz  younger ; 
Their  talk  wuz  meatier,  an'  'oulcl  stay, 

While  book-froth  seems  to  whet  your  hunger ; 
For  puttin'  in  a  downright  lick 

'Twixt  Humbug's  eyes,  ther'  's  few  can  metch 

it, 
An'  then  it  helves  my  thoughts  ez  slick 

Ez  stret-grained  hickory  doos  a  hetchet. 

But  when  I  can't,  I  can't,  thet  's  all, 

For  Natur'  won't  put  up  with  gullin' ; 
Idees  you  hev  to  shove  an'  haul 

Like  a  druv  pig  ain't  wuth  a  mullein ; 
Live  thoughts  ain't  sent  for ;  thru  all  rifts 

O'  sense  they  pour  an'  resh  ye  onwards, 
Like  rivers  when  south-lyin'  drifts 

Feel  thet  th'  old  airth  's  a-wheelin'  sunwards. 

Time  wuz,  the  rhymes  come  crowdin'  thick 

Ez  office-seekers  arter  'lection, 
An'  into  ary  place  'ould  stick 

Without  no  bother  nor  objection ; 
But  sence  the  war  my  thoughts  hang  back 

Ez  though  I  wanted  to  enlist  'em, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  289 

An'  subs'tutes,  —  they  don't  never  lack, 

But  then  they  '11  slope  afore  you  've  mist  'em. 

Nothin'  don't  seem  like  wut  it  wuz ; 

I  can't  see  wut  there  is  to  hender, 
An'  yit  my  brains  jes'  go  buzz,  buzz, 

Like  bumblebees  agin  a  winder ; 
'Fore  these  times  come,  in  all  airth's  row, 

Ther'  wuz  one  quiet  place,  my  head  in, 
Where  I  could  hide  an'  think,  —  but  now 

It 's  all  one  teeter,  hopin',  dreadin'. 

Where  's    Peace  ?      I    start,    some    clear-blown 
night, 

When  gaunt  stone  walls  grow  numb  an'  numb 
er, 
An',  creakin'  'cross  the  snow-crus'  white, 

Walk  the  col'  starlight  into  summer ; 
Up  grows  the  moon,  an'  swell  by  swell 

Thru  the  pale  pasturs  silvers  dimmer 
Than  the  last  smile  thet  strives  to  tell 

O'  love  gone  heavenward  in  its  shimmer. 

I  hev  ben  gladder  o'  sech  things 

Than  cocks  o'  spring  or  bees  o'  clover, 
They  filled  my  heart  with  livin'  springs, 

But  now  they  seem  to  freeze  'em  over ; 
Sights  innercent  ez  babes  on  knee, 

Peaceful  ez  eyes  o'  pastur'd  cattle, 
Jes'  coz  they  be  so,  seem  to  me 

To  rile  me  more  with  thoughts  o'  battle. 


290  THE  BJGLOW  PAPERS. 

lu-doors  an'  out  by  spells  I  try ; 

Ma'am  Natur'  keeps  her  spin-wheel  goin', 
But  leaves  my  natur'  stiff  and  dry 

Ez  fiel's  o'  clover  arter  mowin' ; 
An'  her  jes'  keepin'  on  the  same, 

Calmer  'n  a  clock,  an'  never  carin', 
An'  findin'  nary  thing  to  blame, 

Is  wus  than  ef  she  took  to  swearin'. 

Snow-flakes  come  whisperin'  on  the  pane 

The  charm  makes  blazin'  logs  so  pleasant, 
But  I  can't  hark  to  wut  they  're  say'n', 

With  Grant  or  Sherman  oilers  present ; 
The  chimbleys  shudder  in  the  gale, 

Thet  lulls,  then  suddin  takes  to  flappin' 
Like  a  shot  hawk,  but  all 's  ez  stale 

To  me  ez  so  much  sperit-rappin'. 

Under  the  yaller-pines  I  house, 

When  sunshine  makes  'em  all  sweet-scented, 
An'  hear  among  their  furry  boughs 

The  baskin'  west-wind  purr  contented, 
While  'way  o'erhead,  ez  sweet  an'  low 

Ez  distant  bells  thet  ring  for  meetin', 
The  wedged  wil'  geese  their  bugles  blow, 

Further  an'  further  South  retreatin'. 

Or  up  the  slippery  knob  I  strain 
An'  see  a  hunderd  hills  like  islan's 

Lift  their  blue  woods  in  broken  chain 
Out  o'  the  sea  o'  snowy  silence ; 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  291 

The  farm-smokes,  sweetes'  sight  on  airth, 
Slow  thru  the  winter  air  a-shrinkin' 

Seem  kin'  o'  sad,  an'  roun'  the  hearth 
Of  empty  places  set  me  thinkin'. 

Beaver  roars  hoarse  with  meltin'  snows, 

An'  rattles  di'mon's  from  his  granite  ; 
Time  wuz,  he  snatched  away  my  prose, 

An'  into  psalms  or  satires  ran  it ; 
But  he,  nor  all  the  rest  thet  once  . 

Started  my  blood  to  country-dances, 
Can't  set  me  goin'  more  'n  a  dunce 

Thet  hain't  no  use  for  dreams  an'  fancies. 

Rat-tat-tat-tattle  thru  the  street 

I  hear  the  drummers  makin'  riot, 
An'  I  set  thinkin'  o'  the  feet 

Thet  follered  once  an'  now  are  quiet,  — 
White  feet  ez  snowdrops  innercent, 

Thet  never  knowed  the  paths  o'  Satan, 
Whose  comin'  step  ther'  's  ears  thet  won't, 

No,  not  lifelong,  leave  off  awaitin'. 

Why,  hain't  I  held  'em  on  my  knee  ? 

Did  n't  I  love  to  see  'em  growin', 
Three  likely  lads  ez  wal  could  be, 

Hahnsome  an'  bravo  an'  not  tu  knowin'  ? 
I  set  an'  look  into  the  blaze 

Whose  natur',  jes'  like  theirn,  keeps  climbin', 
Ez  long  'z  it  lives,  in  shinin'  ways, 

An'  half  despise  myself  for  rhymin'. 


292  THE   BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

Wut  's  words  to  them  whose  faith  an'  truth 

On  War's  red  techstone  rang  true  metal, 
Who  ventered  life  an'  love  an'  youth 

For  the  gret  prize  o'  death  in  battle  ? 
To  him  who,  deadly  hurt,  agen 

Flashed  on  afore  the  charge's  thunder, 
Tippin'  with  fire  the  bolt  of  men 

Thet  rived  the  Rebel  line  asunder  ? 

'T  ain't  right  to  hev  the  young  go  fust, 

All  throbbin'  full  o'  gifts  an'  graces, 
Leavin'  life's  paupers  dry  ez  dust 

To  try  an'  make  b'lieve  fill  their  places : 
Nothin'  but  tells  us  wut  we  miss, 

Ther'  's  gaps  our  lives  can't  never  fay  in, 
An'  thet  world  seems  so  fur  from  this 

Lef '  for  us  loafers  to  grow  gray  in  ! 

My  eyes  cloud  up  for  rain  ;  my  mouth 

Will  take  to  twitchin'  roun'  the  corners ; 
I  pity  mothers,  tu,  down  South, 

For  all  they  sot  among  the  scorners  : 
I  'd  sooner  take  my  chance  to  stan' 

At  Jedgment  where  your  meanest  slave  is, 
Than  at  God's  bar  hoi'  up  a  han' 

Ez  drippin'  red  ez  yourn,  Jeff  Davis  ! 

Come,  Peace !  not  like  a  mourner  bowed 
For  honor  lost  an'  dear  ones  wasted, 

But  proud,  to  meet  a  people  proud, 
With  eyes  thet  tell  o'  triumph  tasted ! 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  293 

Come  with  han'  grippin'  on  the  hilt, 

An'  step  thet  proves  ye  Victory's  daughter ! 

Longin'  for  you,  our  sperits  wilt 

Like  shipwrecked  men's  on  raf's  for  water. 

Come,  while  our  country  feels  the  lift 

Of  a  gret  instinct  shoutin'  forwards, 
An'  knows  thet  freedom  ain't  a  gift 

Thet  tarries  long  in  han's  o'  cowards ! 
Come,  sech  ez  mothers  prayed  for,  when 

They  kissed  their  cross  with  lips  thet  quivered, 
An'  bring  fair  wages  for  brave  men, 

A  nation  saved,  a  race  delivered  ! 


No.  XI. 

MR.     HOSEA     BIGLOW'S     SPEECH    IN 
MARCH   MEETING. 

TO  THE   EDITOR   OF   THE   ATLANTIC   MONTHLY. 
JAALAM,  April  5,  1806. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  — 

(an'  noticin'  by  your  kiver  thet  you  're 
some  dearer  than  wut  you  wuz,  I  enclose  the 
deffrence)  I  dunno  ez  I  know  jest  how  to 
interdooce  this  las'  perduction  of  my  mews, 
ez  Parson  Wilbur  allus  called  'em,  which  is 
goin'  to  be  the  last  an'  stay  the  last  onless 
sunthin'  pertikler  sh'd  interfear  which  I 
don't  expec'  ner  I  wun't  yield  tu  ef  it  wuz 
ez  pressin'  ez  a  deppity  Shiriff.  Sence  Mr. 
Wilbur's  disease  I  hev  n't  hed  no  one  thet 
could  dror  out  my  talons.  He  ust  to  kind  o' 
wine  me  up  an'  set  the  penderlum  agoin,  an' 
then  somehow  I  seemed  to  go  on  tick  as  it 
wear  tell  I  run  down,  but  the  noo  minister 
ain't  of  the  same  brewin'  nor  I  can't  seem  to 
git  ahold  of  no  kine  of  huming  nater  in  him 
but  sort  of  slide  rite  off  as  you  du  on  the 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  295 

eedge  of  a  mow.  Minnysteeril  natur  is  wal 
enough  an'  a  site  better  'n  most  other  kines 
I  know  on,  but  the  other  sort  sech  as  Wel- 
bor  heel  wuz  of  the  Lord's  makin'  an'  nateral- 
ly  more  wonderfle  an'  sweet  tastin'  leastways 
to  me  so  fur  as  heerd  from.  He  used  to 
interdooce  'em  smooth  ez  ile  athout  sayin' 
nothin'  in  pertickler  an'  I  misdoubt  he  did  n't 
set  so  much  by  the  sec'nd  Ceres  as  wut  he 
done  by  the  Fust,  fact,  he  let  on  onct  thet 
his  mine  misgive  him  of  a  sort  of  fallin'  off 
in  spots.  He  wuz  as  outspoken  as  a  nor- 
wester  he  wuz,  but  I  tole  him  I  hoped  the 
fall  wuz  from  so  high  up  thet  a  feller  could 
ketch  a  good  many  times  fust  afore  comin' 
bunt  onto  the  ground  as  I  see  Jethro  C. 
Swett  from  the  meetin'  house  steeple  up  to 
th'  old  perrish,  an'  took  up  for  dead  but 
he 's  alive  now  an'  spry  as  wut  you  be. 
Turnin'  of  it  over  I  recclected  how  they  ust 
to  put  wut  they  called  Argymunce  onto  the 
frunts  of  poymns,  like  poorches  afore  housen 
whare  you  could  rest  ye  a  spell  whilst  you 
wuz  concludin'  whether  you  'd  go  in  or  nut 
espeshully  ware  tha  wuz  darters,  though  I 
most  allus  found  it  the  best  plen  to  go  in 
fust  an'  think  afterwards  an'  the  gals  likes 
it  best  hi.  I  dno  as  speechis  ever  hez  any 


296  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

argimunts  to  'em,  I  never  see  none  thet  hed 
an'  I  guess  they  never  du  but  tha  must  allus 
be  a  B'ginnin'  to  everythin'  athout  it  is 
Etarnity  so  I  '11  begin  rite  away  an'  any 
body  may  put  it  afore  any  of  his  speeches  ef 
it  soots  an'  welcome.  I  don't  claim  no  pay- 
tent. 

THE    ARGYMUNT. 

Interducshin  w'ich  may  be  skipt.  Begins 
by  talkin'  about  himself  :  thet  's  jest  natur 
an'  most  gin'ally  allus  pleasin',  I  b'leeve  I  've 
notist,  to  one  of  the  cumpany,  an'  thet  's 
more  than  wut  you  can  say  of  most  speshes 
of  talkin'.  Nex'  comes  the  gittin'  the  good 
will  of  the  orjunce  by  lettin'  'em  gether 
from  wut  you  kind  of  ex'dentally  let  drop 
thet  they  air  about  East,  A  one,  an'  no 
inistaik,  skare  'em  up  an'  take  'em  as  they 
rise.  Spring  interdooced  with  a  fiew  appro- 
put  flours.  Speach  finally  begins  witch  no- 
buddy  need  n't  feel  obolygated  to  read  as  I 
never  read  'em  an'  never  shell  this  one  ag'in 
Subjick  staited  ;  expanded  ;  delayted  ;  ex 
tended.  Pump  lively.  Subjick  staited  ag'in 
so  's  to  avide  all  mistaiks.  Ginnle  remarks ; 
continooed ;  kerried  on ;  pushed  furder ; 
kind  o'  gin  out.  Subjick  restaited  ;  dieloo- 
ted ;  stirred  up  permiscoous.  Pump  ag'in. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  297 

Gits  back  to  where  he  sot  out.  Can't  seem 
to  stay  thair.  Ketches  into  Mr.  Seaward's 
hair.  Breaks  loose  ag'in  an'  staits  his  sub- 
jick  ;  stretches  it ;  turns  it ;  folds  it ;  on- 
folds  it ;  folds  it  ag'in  so  's  't  no  one  can't 
find  it.  Argoos  with  an  imedginary  bean 
thet  ain't  aloud  to  say  nothin'  in  repleye. 
Gives  him  a  real  good  dressin'  an'  is  settys- 
fide  he  's  rite.  Gits  into  Johnson's  hair.  No 
use  tryin'  to  git  into  his  head.  Gives  it  up. 
Hez  to  stait  his  subjick  ag'in ;  does  it  back- 
'ards,  sideways,  eendways,  criss-cross,  bevel- 
lin',  noways.  Gits  finally  red  on  it.  Con- 
cloods.  Concloods  more.  Reads  some  xtrax. 
Sees  his  subjick  a-nosin'  round  arter  him 
ag'in.  Tries  to  avide  it.  Wun't  du.  Mis 
states  it.  Can't  conjectur'  no  other  plawsa- 
ble  way  of  staytin'  on  it.  Tries  pump.  No 
fx.  Finely  concloods  to  conclood.  Yeels  the 
flore. 

You  kin  spall  an'  punctooate  thet  as  you 
please.  I  allus  do,  it  kind  of  puts  a  noo 
soot  of  close  onto  a  word,  thisere  funattick 
spellin'  doos  an'  takes  'em  out  of  the  prissen 
dress  they  wair  in  the  Dixonary.  Ef  I 
squeeze  the  cents  out  of  'em  it  's  the  main 
thing,  an'  wut  they  wuz  made  for;  wut  's 
left  's  jest  pummis. 


298  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Mistur  Wilbur  sez  he  to  me  onct,  sez  he, 
"  Hosee,"  sez  he,  "  in  litterytoor  the  only 
good  thing  is  Natur.  It  's  amazin'  hard  to 
come  at,"  sez  he,  "  but  onet  git  it  an'  you  Ve 
gut  everythin'.  Wut  's  the  sweetest  small 
on  airth?"  sez  he.  "  Noomone  hay,"  sez  I, 
pooty  bresk,  for  he  wuz  allus  hankerin'  round 
in  hayin'.  "  Nawthin'  of  the  kine,"  sez  he. 
"  My  leetle  Huldy's  breath,"  sez  I  ag'in. 
"  You  're  a  good  lad,"  sez  he,  his  eyes  sort 
of  ripplin'  like,  for  he  lost  a  babe  onct  nigh 
about  her  age,  —  "  You  're  a  good  lad  ;  but 
't  ain't  thet  nuther,"  sez  he.  "  Ef  you  want 
to  know,"  sez  he,  "  open  your  winder  of  a 
mornin'  et  ary  season,  and  you  '11  larn  thet 
the  best  of  perfooms  is  jest  fresh  air,  fresh 
air"  sez  he,  emphysizin',  "  athout  no  mixtur. 
Thet  's  wut  /  call  natur  in  writin',  and  it 
bathes  my  lungs  and  washes  'em  sweet  when 
ever  I  git  a  whiff  on  't,"  sez  he.  I  offen 
think  o'  thet  when  I  set  down  to  write,  but 
the  winders  air  so  ept  to  git  stuck,  an'  break- 
in'  a  pane  costs  sunthin'. 

Yourn  for  the  last  time, 

Nut  to  be  continooed, 

HOSEA  BIGLOW. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  299 

I  DON'T  much  s'pose  hows'ever  I  should  plen  it, 

I  could  git  boosted  into  th'  House  or  Sennit,  — 

Nut  while  the  twolegged  gab-machine  's  so  plenty, 

'Nablin'  one  man  to  du  the  talk  o'  twenty ; 

I  'm  one  o'  them  thet  finds  it  ruther  hard 

To  mannyfactur'  wisdom  by  the  yard, 

An'  maysure  off,  accordin'  to  demand, 

The  piece-goods  el'kence  that  I  keep  on  hand, 

The  same  ole  pattern  runnin'  thru  an'  thru, 

An'  nothin'  but  the  customer  thet  's  new. 

I  sometimes  think,  the  furder  on  I  go, 

Thet  it  gits  harder  to  feel  sure  I  know, 

An'  when  I  've  settled  my  idees,  I  find 

'T  war  n't  I  sheered  most  in  makin'  up  my  mind  ; 

'T  wuz  this  an'  thet  an' t'  other  thing  thet  done  it, 

Sunthin'  in  th'  air,  I  could  n'  seek  nor  shun  it. 

Mos'  folks  go  off  so  quick  now  in  discussion, 

All  th'  ole  flint  locks  seems  altered  to  percussion, 

Whilst  I  in  agin'  sometimes  git  a  hint 

Thet  I  'm  percussion  changin'  back  to  flint ; 

Wai,  ef  it  's  so,  I  ain't  agoin'  to  werrit, 

For    th'    ole    Queen's-arm    hez    this    pertickler 

merit,  — 

It  gives  the  mind  a  hahnsome  wedth  o'  margin 
To  kin'  o  make  its  will  afore  dischargin'  : 
I  can't  make  out  but  jest  one  ginnle  rule,  — 
No  man  need  go  an'  make  himself  a  fool, 
Nor  jedgment  ain't  like  mutton,  thet  can't  bear 
Cookin'  tu  long,  nor  be  took  up  tu  rare. 


300  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Ez  I  wuz  say'n',  I  haint  no  chance  to  speak 

So  's  't  all  the  country  dreads  me  onct  a  week, 

But  I  've  consid'ble  o'  thet  sort  o'  head 

Thet  sets  to  home  an'  thinks  wut  might  be  said, 

The  sense  thet  grows  an'  werrits  underneath, 

Comin'  belated  like  your  wisdom-teeth, 

An'  git  so  el'kent,  sometimes,  to  my  gardin 

Thet  I  don'  vally  public  life  a  fardin'. 

Our  Parson  Wilbur  (blessin's  on  his  head !) 

'Mongst  other  stories  of  ole  times  he  hed, 

Talked  of  a  feller  thet  rehearsed  his  spreads 

Beforehan'  to  his  rows  o'  kebbige-heads, 

(Ef  't  war  n't  Demossenes,  I  guess  't  vvuz  Sisro,) 

Appealin'  fust  to  thet  an'  then  to  this  row, 

Accordin'  ez  he  thought  thet  his  idees 

Their  diff 'runt  ev'riges  o'  brains  'ould  please  ; 

"  An',"  sez  the  Parson,  "  to  hit  right,  you  must 

Git  used  to  maysurin'  your  hearers  fust ; 

For,  take  my  word  for  't,  when  all  's  come  an' 

past, 

The  kebbige-heads  '11  cair  the  day  et  last ; 
Th'  ain't  ben  a  meetin'  sence  the  worl'  begun 
But  they  made  (raw  or  biled  ones)  ten  to  one." 

I  've  allus  foun'  'em,  I  allow,  sence  then 
About  ez  good  for  talkin'  to  ez  men  ; 
They  '11  take  edvice,  like  other  folks,  to  keep, 
(To  use  it  'ould  be  holdin'  on  't  tu  cheap,) 
They  listen  wal,  don'  kick  up  when  you  scold  'em, 
An'  ef  they  've  tongues,  hev  sense  enough  to  hold 
'em; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  301 

Though   th'  ain't  no  denger  we  shall  lose  the 

breed, 

I  gin'lly  keep  a  score  or  so  for  seed, 
An'  when  my  sappiness  gits  spry  in  spring, 
So  's  't  my  tongue  itches  to  run  on  full  swing, 
I  fin'  'em  ready-planted  in  March-meetin', 
Warm  ez  a  lyceum-audience  in  their  greetin', 
An'    pleased    to    hear    my    spoutin'    frum    the 

fence, — 

Comin',  ez  't  doos,  entirely  free  'f  expense. 
This  year  I  made  the  follerin'  observations 
Extrump'ry,  like  most  other  tri'ls  o'  patience, 
An',  no  reporters  bein'  sent  express 
To  work  their  abstrac's  up  into  a  mess 
Ez  like  th'  oridg'nal  ez  a  woodcut  pictur' 
Thet  chokes  the  life  out  like  a  boy-constrictor, 
I  've  writ  'em  out,  an'  so  avide  all  jeal'sies 
'Twixt  nonsense  o'  my  own  an'  some  one's  else's. 

(N.  B.  Reporters  gin'lly  git  a  hint 
To  make  dull  orjunces  seem  'live  in  print, 
An',  ez  I  hev  t'  report  myself,  I  vum, 
I   '11  put  th'   applauses  where  they  'd  ought  to 
come '.) 

MY  FELLER  KEBBIGE-HEADS,  who  look  so  green, 

I  vow  to  gracious  thet  ef  I  could  dreen 

The  world  of  all  its  hearers  but  jest  you, 

'T  would  leave  'bout  all  tha'  is  wuth  talkin'  to, 

An'  you,  my  ven'able  ol'  frien's,  thet  show 


302  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Upon  your  crowns  a  sprinkliii'  o'  March  snow, 
Ez  ef  mild  Time  had  christened  every  sense 
For  wisdom's  church  o'  second  innocence, 
Nut  Age's  winter,  no,  no  sech  a  thing, 
But  jest  a  kin'  o'  slipppin'-back  o'  spring,  — 

[Sev'ril  noses  blowed.] 

We  've  gathered  here,  ez  ushle,  to  decide 
Which  is  the  Lord's  an'  which  is  Satan's  side, 
Coz  all  the  good  or  evil  thet  can  heppen 
Is  'long  o'  which  on  'em  you  choose  for  Cappen. 

[Cries  o'  "Tliet'sso!  "] 

Aprul  's  come  back  ;  the  swellin'  buds  of  oak 
Dim  the  fur  hillsides  with  a  purplish  smoke  ; 
The  brooks  are  loose  an',  singing  to  be  seen, 
(Like  gals,)  make  all  the  hollers  soft  un'  green ; 
The  birds  are  here,  for  all  the  season  's  late  ; 
They  take  the  sun's  height  an'  don'  never  wait'; 
Soon  'z  he  officially  declares  it  's  spring 
Their  light  hearts  lift  'em  on  a  north' ard  wing, 
An'  th'  ain't  an  acre,  fur  ez  you  can  hear, 
Can't  by  the  music  tell  the  time  o'  year ; 
But  thet  white  dove  Carliny  scared  away, 
Five  year  ago,  jes'  sech  an  Aprul  day ; 
Peace,  that  we  hoped  'ould  come  an'  build  last 

year 

An'  coo  by  every  housedoor,  is  n't  here,  — 
No,  nor  wun't  never  be,  for  all  our  jaw, 
Till  we're  ez  brave  in  pol'tics  ez  in  war ! 
O  Lord,  ef  folks  wuz  made  so  's  't  they  could  see 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  303 

The  begnet-pint  there  is  to  an  idee  !       [Sensation.] 
Ten  times  the  danger  in  'em  th'  is  in  steel ; 
They  run  your  soul  thru  an'  you  never  feel, 
But  crawl  about  an'  seem  to  think  you  're  livin', 
Poor  shells  o'  men,  nut  wuth  the  Lord's  forgivin', 
Till  you  come  bunt  ag'in  a  real  live  feet, 
An'  go  to  pieces  when  you  'd  ough'  to  ect ! 
Thet  kin'  o'  begnet  's  wut  we  're  crossin'  now, 
An'  no  man,  fit  to  newigate  a  scow, 
'Ould  stan'  expectin'  help  from  Kingdom  Come, 
While  t'  other  side  druv  their  cold  iron  home. 

My  frien's,  you  never  gethered  from  my  mouth, 
No,  nut  one  word  ag'in  the  South  ez  South, 
Nor  th'    ain't  a  livin'  man,   white,  brown,  nor 

black, 

Gladder  'n  wut  I  should  be  to  take  'em  back ; 
But  all  I  ask  of  Uncle  Sam  is  fust 
To  write  up  on  his  door,  "  No  goods  on  trust ;  " 
[Cries  of  "  Thet 's  the  ticket!  "] 

Give  us  cash  down  in  ekle  laws  for  all, 

An'  they  '11  be  snug  inside  afore  nex'  fall. 

Give  wut  they  ask,  an'  we  shell  hev  Jamaker, 

Wuth  minus  some  consid'able  an  acre  ; 

Give  wut  they  need,  an'  we  shell  git  'fore  long 

A  nation  all  one  piece,  rich,  peacefle,  strong ; 

Make  'em  Amerikin,  an'  they  '11  begin 

To  love  their  country  ez  they  loved  their  sin  ; 

Let  'em  stay  Southun,  an'  you  've  kep'  a  sore 

Ready  to  fester  ez  it  done  afore. 


304  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

No  mortle  man  can  boast  of  perfic'  vision, 
But  the  one  moleblin'  thing  is  Indecision, 
An'  th'  ain't  no  futur'  for  the  man  nor  state 
Thet  out  of  j-u-s-t  can't  spell  great. 
Some  folks  'ould  call  thet  recldikle  ;  do  you  ? 
'T  was  commonsense  afore  the  war  wuz  thru ; 
Thet  loaded  all  our  guns  an'  made  'em  speak 
So  's   't  Europe    beared   'em  clearn  acrost   the 

creek  ; 
"  They  're  drivin'  o'  their  spiles  down  now,"  sez 

she, 

"  To  the  hard  grennit  o'  God's  fust  idee ; 
Ef  they  reach  thet,  Democ'cy  need  n't  fear 
The  tallest  airthquakes  we  can  git  up  here." 
Some  call  't  insultin'  to  ask  ary  pledge, 
An'  say  't  will  only  set  their  teeth  on  edge, 
But  folks  you  've  jest  licked,  fur  'z  I  ever  see, 
Are  'bout  ez  mad  'z  they  wal  know  how  to  be ; 
It 's  better  than  the  Rebs  themselves  expected 
'Fore  they  see  Uncle  Sam  wilt  down  henpected  ; 
Be  kind  'z  you  please,  but   fustly  make   things 

fast, 

For  plain  Truth  's  all  the  kindness  thet  '11  last ; 
Ef  treason  is  a  crime,  ez  some  folks  say, 
How  could  we  punish  it  a  milder  way 
Than  sayin'  to  'em,  "  Brethren,  lookee  here, 
We  '11  jes'  divide  things  with  ye,  sheer  an'  sheer, 
An  sence  both  come  o'  pooty  strongbacked  dad 
dies, 

You  take  the  Darkies,  ez  we  've  took  the  Pad 
dies  ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  305 

Ign'ant  an'  poor  we  took  'em  by  the  hand, 
An'  they  're  the  bones  an'  sinners  o'  the  land." 
I  ain't  o'  them  thet  fancy  there  's  a  loss  on 
Every  inves'ment  thet  don't  start  from  Bos'on  ; 
But  I  know  this  :  our  money  's  safest  trusted 
In  sunthin',  come  wut  will,  thet  can't  be  busted, 
An'  thet  's  the  old  Amerikin  idee, 
To  make  a  man  a  Man  an'  let  him  be. 

[Gret  applause.] 

Ez  for  their  1'yalty,  don't  take  a  goad  to  't, 
But  I  do'  want  to  block  their  only  road  to 't 
By  lettin'  'em  believe  thet  they  can  git 
Mor  'n  wut  they  lost,  out  of  our  little  wit : 
I  tell  ye  wut,  I  'm  'fraid  we  '11  drif  to  leeward 
'Thout  we  can  put  more  stiffenin'  into  Seward ; 
He  seems  to  think  Columby  'd  better  ect 
Like  a  scared  widder  with  a  boy  stiff-necked 
Thet  stomps  an'  swears  he  wun't  come  in  to  sup 
per  ; 

She  mus'  set  up  for  him,  ez  weak  ez  Tapper, 
Keepin'  the  Constitootion  on  to  warm, 
Tell  he  '11  eccept  her  'pologies  in  form  : 
The  neighbors  tell  her  he  's  a  cross-grained  cuss 
Thet  needs  a  hidin'  'fore  he  comes  to  wus  ; 
"  No,"  sez  Ma  Seward,  "  he  's  ez  good  'z  the  best, 
All  he  wants  now  is  sugar-plums  an'  rest ; " 
"  He  sarsed  my  Pa,"  sez  one  ;  "  He  stoned  my 

son," 

Another  edds.     "  Oh,  wal,  't  wuz  jest  his  fun." 
"  He  tried  to  shoot  our  Uncle  Samwell  dead." 


306  THE  EIGLOW  PAPERS. 

"  'T  wuz  only  tryin'  a  noo  gun  he  hed." 
"  Wai,  all  we  ask  's  to  hev  it  understood 
You  '11  take  his  gun  away  from  him  for  good  ; 
We  don't,  wal,  not  exac'ly,  like  his  play, 
Seein'  he  allus  kin'  o'  shoots  our  way. 
You  kill  your  fatted  calves  to  no  good  eend, 
'Thout  his  fust  sayin',  '  Mother,  I  hev  sinned  !  '  ' 
["Amen!  "  from  Deac'n  Greenleaf.] 

The  Pres'dunt  he  thinks  thet  the  slickest  plan 

'Ould  be  t'  allow  thet  he  's  our  on'y  man, 

An'  thet  we  fit  thru  all  thet  dreffle  war 

Jes'  for  his  private  glory  an'  eclor  ; 

"  Nobody  ain't  a  Union  man,"  sez  he, 

"  'Thout  he  agrees  thru  thick  an'  thin,  with  me  ; 

War  n't  Andrew  Jackson's  'nitials  jes'  like  mine  ? 

An'  ain't  thet  sunthin'  like  a  right  divine 

To  cut  up  ez  kentenkerous  ez  I  please, 

An'  treat  your  Congress  like  a  nest  o'  fleas  ?  " 

Wal,  I  expec'  the  People  would  n'  care,  if 

The  question  now  wuz  techin'  bank  or  tariff, 

But  I  conclude  they  've  'bout  made  up  their  mind 

This  ain't  the  fittest  time  to  go  it  blind, 

Nor  these  ain't  metters  thet  with  pol'tics  swings, 

But  goes  'way  down  amongst  the  roots  o'  things  ; 

Coz  Stunner  talked  o'  whitewashin'  one  day 

They  wun't  let  four  years'  war  be  throwed  away. 

"  Let  the   South  hev  her  rights  ?  "     They   say, 

"  Thet  's  you  ! 
But  nut  greb  hold  of  other  folks's  tu." 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  307 

Who  owns  this  country  ?   is  it  they  or  Andy  ? 
Leastways  it  ough'  to  be  the  People  and  he  ; 
Let  him  be  senior  pardner,  ef  he  's  so, 
But  let  them  kin'  o'  smuggle  in  ez  Co  ;  [Laughter.] 
Did  he  diskiver  it  ?     Consid'ble  numbers 
Think  thet  the  job  wus  taken  by  Columbus. 
Did  he  set  tu  an'  make  it  wut  it  is  ? 
Ef  so,  I  guess  the  One-Man-power  hez  riz. 
Did  he  put  thru  the  rebbles,  clear  the  docket, 
An'  pay  th'  expenses  out  of  his  own  pocket  ? 
Ef  thet  's  the  case,  then  everythin'  I  exes 
Is  t'  hev  him  come  an'  pay  my  ennooal  texes. 

[Profound  sensation.] 

Was  't  he  thet  shou'dered  all  them  million  guns  ? 
Did  he  lose  all  the  fathers,  brothers,  sons  ? 
Is  this  ere  pop'lar  gov'ment  thet  we  run 
A  kin'  o'  sulky,  made  to  kerry  one  ? 
An'  is  the  countiy  goin'  to  knuckle  down 
To  hev  Smith  sort  their  letters  'stid  o'  Brown  ? 
Who  wuz  the  'Nited  States  'fore  Richmon'  fell  ? 
Wuz  the  South  needfle  their  full  name  to  spell  ? 
An'  can't  we  spell  it  in  thet  short-han'  way 
Till  th'  underpinnin'  's  settled  so  's  to  stay  ? 
Who  cares  for  the  Resolves  of  '61, 
Thet  tried  to  coax  an  airthquake  with  a  bun  ? 
Hez  act'ly  nothin'  taken  place  sence  then 
To  larn  folks  they  must  hendle  fects  like  men  ? 
Ain't  this  the  true  p'int  ?     Did  the  Rebs  accep' 

'em? 
Ef  nut,  whose  fault  is  't  thet  we  hev  n't  kep' 

'em  ? 


308  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

War  n't  there  two  sides  ?  an'  don't  it  stend  to 

reason 
Thet  this  week's  'Nited  States  ain't  las'  week's 

treason  ? 

When  all  these  sums  is  done,  with  nothin'  missed, 
An'  nut  afore,  this  school  '11  be  dismissed. 

I  knowed  ez  wal  ez  though  I  'd  seen  't  with  eyes 

Thet  when  the  war  wuz  over  copper  'd  rise, 

An'  thet  we  'd  hev  a  rile-up  in  our  kettle 

'T  would  need  Leviathan's  whole  skin  to  settle ; 

I  thought  'twould  take  about  a  generation 

'Fore  we  could  wal  begin  to  be  a  nation, 

But  I  allow  I  never  did  imegine 

'T  would   be    our  Pres'dunt  thet  'ould    drive  a 

wedge  in 

To  keep  the  split  from  closin'  ef  it  could, 
An'  healin'  over  with  new  wholesome  wood  ; 
For  th'  ain't  no  chance  o'  healin'  while  they  think 
Thet  law  an'  guv'ment  's  only  printer's  ink ; 
I  mus'  confess  I  thank  him  for  discoverin' 
The  curus  way  in  which  the  States  are  sovereign  ; 
They  ain't  nut  quite  enough  so  to  rebel, 
But,  when  they  fin'  it  's  costly  to  raise  h — , 

[A  groan  from  Deac'n  G.] 

Why,  then,  for  jes'  the  same  superl'tive  reason, 
They  're  most  too  much  so  to  be  tetched  for  trea 
son  ; 

They  can't  go  out,  but  ef  they  somehow  du, 
Their  sovereignty  don't  noways  go  out  tu ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  309 

The  State  goes  out,  the  sovereignty  don't  stir, 

But  stays  to  keep  the  door  ajar  for  her. 

He  thinks  secession  never  took  'em  out, 

An'  mebby  he  's  correc',  but  I  misdoubt ; 

Ef  they  war  n't  out,  then  why,  'n  the  name  o' 

sin, 

Make  all  this  row  'bout  lettin'  of  'em  in  ? 
In   law,   p'r'aps   nut ;  but  there  's  a  diffurence, 

ruther, 
Betwixt  your  mother-'n-law  an'  real  mother, 

[Derisive  cheers.] 
An'  I,  for  one,  shall  wish  they  'd  all  been  som'- 

eres, 

Long  'z  U.  S.  Texes  are  sech  reg'lar  comers. 
But,  oh  my  patience !  must  we  wriggle  back 
Into  th'  ole  crooked,  pettyfoggin'  track, 
When  our  artil'ry-wheels  a  road  hev  cut 
Stret  to  our  purpose  ef  we  keep  the  rut  ? 
War  's  jes'  dead  waste  excep'  to  wipe  the  slate 
Clean  for  the  cyph'rin'  of  some  nobler  fate. 

[Applause.] 

Ez  for  dependin'  on  their  oaths  an  thet, 

T  wun't  bind  'em  more  'n  the  ribbin  roun'  my 

het; 

I  beared  a  fable  once  from  Othniel  Starns, 
Thet  pints  it  slick  ez  weathercocks  do  barns  : 
Onct  on  a  time  the  wolves  bed  certing  rights 
Inside  the  fold  ;  they  used  to  sleep  there  nights. 
An',  bein'  cousins  o'  the  dogs,  they  took 


310  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

Their  turns  et  watchin',  reg'lar  ez  a  book  ; 
But  somehow,  when  the  dogs  hed  gut  asleep, 
Their  love  o'  mutton  beat  their  love  o'  sheep, 
Till  gradilly  the  shepherds  come  to  see 
Things  war  n't  agoin'  ez  they  'd  ough'  to  be ; 
So  they  sent  off  a  deacon  to  remonstrate 
Along  'th   the    wolves    an'  urge  'em   to   go   on 

straight ; 

They  did  n'  seem  to  set  much  by  the  deacon, 
Nor  preachin'  did  n'  cow  'em,  nut  to  speak  on ; 
Fin'ly  they  swore  thet  they  'd  go  out  an'  stay, 
An'  hev  their  fill  o'  mutton  every  day  ; 
Then  dogs  an'  shepherds,  after  much  hard  dam- 

min',  [Groan  from  Deac'n  G.] 

Turned  tu  an'  give  'em  a  tormented  lammin', 
An'  sez,  "  Ye  sha'n't  go  out,  the  murrain  rot  ye, 
To  keep  us  wastin'  half  our  time  to  watch  ye  !  " 
But  then  the  question  come,  How  live  together 
'Thout  losin'  sleep,  nor  nary  yew  nor  wether  ? 
Now  there  wuz  some  dogs  (noways  wuth  their 

keep) 
Thet  sheered  their  cousins'  tastes  an'  sheered  the 

sheep ; 

They  sez,  "  Be  gin'rous,  let  'em  swear  right  in, 
An',  ef  they  backslide,  let  'em  swear  ag'in  ; 
Jes'  let  'em  put  on  sheep-skins  whilst  they  're 

swearin' ; 

To  ask  for  more  'ould  be  beyond  all  bearin'." 
"Be  gin'rous  for  yourselves,  where   you  're  to 

pay, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  311 

Thet  's  the  best  prectice,"  sez  a  shepherd  gray ; 
"  Ez  for  their  oaths  they  wun't  be  wuth  a  button, 
Long  'z  you  don't  cure  'em  o'  their  taste  for  mut 
ton  ; 

Th'  ain't  but  one  solid  way,  howe'er  you  puzzle  : 
Tell  they  're  convarted,  let  'em  wear  a  muzzle." 
[Cries  of  "  Bully  for  you  !  "] 

I  've  noticed  thet  each  half-baked  scheme's  abet- 

ters 

Are  in  the  hebbit  o'  producin'  letters 
Writ  by  all  sorts  o'  never-heared-on  fellers, 
'Bout  ez  oridge'nal  ez  the  wind  in  bellers ; 
I  've  noticed,  tu,  it 's  the  quack  med'cines  gits 
(An'  needs)  the  grettest  heaps  o'  stiffykits ; 

[Two  apothekeries  goes  out.] 

Now,  sence  I  lef  off  creepin'  on  all  fours, 
I  hain't  ast  no  man  to  endorse  my  course ; 
It 's  full  ez  cheap  to  be  your  own  endorser, 
An'  ef  I  've  made  a  cup,  I  '11  fin'  the  saucer ; 
But  I  've  some  letters  here  from  t'  other  side, 
An'  them  's  the  sort  thet  helps  me  to  decide  ; 
Tell  me  for  wut  the  copper-comp'nies  hanker, 
An'  1 11  tell  you  jest  where  it 's  safe  to  anchor. 

[Faint  hiss.] 

Fus'ly  the  Hon'ble  B.  O.  Sawin  writes 
Thet  for  a  spell  he  could  n'  sleep  o'  nights, 
Puzzlin'  which  side  wuz  preudentest  to  pin  to, 
Which  wuz  th'  ole  homestead,  which  the  temp'ry 

leanto ; 
Et  fust  he  jedged  't  would  right-side-up  his  pan 


312  THE  BIG  LOW   PAPERS. 

To  come  out  ez  a  'ridge'nal  Union  man, 

"  But  now,"  he  sez,  "  I  ain't  nut  quite  so  fresh  ; 

The  winnin'  horse  is  goin'  to  be  Secesh  ; 

You  might,    las'  spring,    hev   eas'ly  walked  the 

course, 

'Fore  we  contrived  to  doctor  th'  Union  horse  ; 
Now  we  're  the  ones  to  walk  aroun'  the  nex' 

track : 

Jest  you  take  hold  an'  read  the  follerin'  extrac', 
Out  of  a  letter  I  received  last  week 
From  an  ole  frien'  thet  never  sprung  a  leak, 
A  Nothun  Dem'crat  o'  th'  ole  Jarsey  blue, 
Born  coppersheathed  an'  copperfastened  tu." 

"  These  four  years  past  it  hez  been  tough 
To  say  which  side  a  feller  went  for  ; 
Guideposts  all  gone,  roads  muddy  'n'  rough, 
An'  nothin'  duin'  wut  't  wuz  meant  for  ; 
Pickets  a-firin'  left  an'  right, 
Both  sides  a  lettin'  rip  et  sight,  — 
Life  war  n't  wuth  hardly  payin'  rent  for. 

"  Columby  gut  her  back  up  so, 
It  war  n't  no  use  a-tryin'  to  stop  her,  — 
War's  emptin's  riled  her  very  dough 
An'  made  it  rise  an'  act  improper ; 
'T  wuz  full  ez  much  ez  I  could  du 
To  jes'  lay  low  an'  worry  thru', 
'Thout  hevin'  to  sell  out  my  copper. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  313 

"  Afore  the  war  your  mod'rit  men 
Could  set  an'  sun  'em  on  the  fences, 
Cyph'rin'  the  chances  up,  an'  then 
Jump  off  which  way  bes'  paid  expenses  ; 
Sence,  't  wus  so  resky  ary  way, 
/  did  n't  hardly  darst  to  say 
I  'greed  with  Paley's  Evidences. 

[Groan  from  Deac'n  G.] 

"  Ask  Mac  ef  tryin'  to  set  the  fence 
War  n't  like  bein'  rid  upon  a  rail  on  't, 
Headin'  your  party  with  a  sense 
O'  bein'  tipjint  in  the  tail  on  't, 
And  tryin'  to  think  thet,  on  the  whole, 
You  kin'  o'  quasi  own  your  soul 
When  Belmont's  gut  a  bill  o'  sale  on  't  ? 

[Three  cheers  for  Grant  and  Sherman.] 

"  Come  peace,  I  sposed  thet  folks  'ould  like 
Their  pol'tics  done  ag'in  by  proxy, 
Give  their  noo  loves  the  bag  an'  strike 
A  fresh  trade  with  their  reg'lar  doxy ; 
But  the  drag  's  broke,  now  slavery  's  gone, 
An'  there  's  gret  resk  they  '11  blunder  on, 
Ef  they  ain't  stopped,  to  real  Democ'cy. 

"  We  've  gut  an  awful  row  to  hoe 
In  this  'ere  job  o'  reconstructin'  ; 
Folks  dunno  skurce  which  way  to  go, 
Where  th'  ain't  some  boghole  to  be  ducked  in ; 


314  TEE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

But  one  thing  's  clear  ;  there  is  a  crack, 
Ef  we  pry  hard,  'twixt  white  an'  black, 
Where  the  old  makehate  can  be  tucked  in. 

"  No  white  man  sets  in  airth's  broad  aisle 
Thet  I  ain't  willin'  't  own  ez  brother, 
An'  ef  he  's  heppened  to  strike  ile, 
I  dunno,  fin'ly,  but  I  'd  ruther ; 
An'  Paddies,  long  'z  they  vote  all  right, 
Though  they  ain't  jest  a  nat'ral  white, 
I  hold  one  on  'em  good  ?z  another.     [Applause.] 

"  Wut  is  there  lef '  I  'd  like  to  know, 
Ef  't  ain't  the  difference  o'  color, 
To  keep  up  self-respec'  an'  show 
The  human  natur'  of  a  f ullah  ? 
Wut  good  in  bein'  white,  onless 
It  's  fixed  by  law,  nut  lef  to  guess, 
That  we  are  smarter  an'  they  duller  ? 

"  Ef  we  're  to  hev  our  ekle  rights, 
'T  wun't  du  to  'low  no  competition ; 
Th'  ole  debt  doo  us  for  bein'  whites 
Ain't  safe  onless  we  stop  th'  emission 
O'  these  noo  notes,  whose  specie  base 
Is  human  natur',  'thout  no  trace 
0'  shape,  nor  color,  nor  condition. 

[Continood  applause.] 

"  So  fur  I  'd  writ  an'  could  n'  jedge 
Aboard  wut  boat  I  'd  best  take  pessige, 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  315 

My  brains  all  mincemeat,  'thout  no  edge 

Upon  'em  more  than  tu  a  sessige, 

But  now  it  seems  ez  though  I  see 

Sunthin'  resemblin'  an  idee, 

Sence  Johnson's  speech  an'  veto  message. 

"  I  like  the  speech  best,  I  confess, 

The  logic,  preudence,  an'  good  taste  on  't, 
An'  it  's  so  mad,  I  ruther  guess 
There  's  some  dependence  to  be  placed  on  't ; 

[Laughter.] 

It  's  narrer,  but  'twixt  you  an'  me, 

Out  o'  the  allies  o'  J.  D. 

A  temp'ry  party  can  be  based  on  't. 

"  Jes'  to  hold  on  till  Johnson  's  thru 
An'  dug  his  Presidential  grave  is, 
An'  then  !  —  who  knows  but  we  could  slew 

The  country  roun'  to  put  in  ? 

Wun't  some  folks  rare  up  when  we  pull 
Out  o'  their  eyes  our  Union  wool 
An'  larn  'em  wut  a  p'lit'cle  shave  is  ! 

';  Oh,  did  it  seem  'z  ef  Providunce 
Could  ever  send  a  second  Tyler  ? 
To  see  the  South  all  back  to  once, 
Reapin'  the  spiles  o'  the  Freesiler, 
Is  cute  ez  though  an  ingineer 
Should  claim  th'  old  iron  for  his  sheer 
Coz  't  was  himself  that  bust  the  biler  !  " 

[Gret  laughter.] 


316  THE  B1GLOW  PAPERS. 

Thet  tells  the  story  !     Thet  's  wut  we  shall  git 

By  tryin  squirtguns  on  the  burnin'  Pit ; 

For  the  day  never  comes  when  it  '11  du 

To  kick  off  Dooty  like  a  worn-out  shoe. 

I  seem  to  hear  a  whisperin'  in  the  air, 

A  sighin'  like,  of  unconsoled  despair, 

Thet  comes  from  nowhere  an'  from  everywhere, 

An'  seems  to  say,  "  Why  died  we  ?  war  n't  it? 

then, 

To  settle,  once  for  all,  thet  men  wuz  men  ! 
Oh,  airth's  sweet   cup  snetched   from  us  barely 

tasted, 

The  grave's  real  chill  is  feelin'  life  wuz  wasted ! 
Oh,  you  we  lef,  long-lingerin'  et  the  door, 
Lovin'  you  best,  coz  we  loved  Her  the  more, 
Thet  Death,  not  we,  had  conquered,  we  should 

feel 

Ef  she  upon  our  memory  turned  her  heel, 
An'  unregretful  throwed  us  all  away 
To  flaunt  it  in  a  Blind  Man's  Holiday !  " 

My  frien's  I  've  talked  nigh  on  to  long  enough. 
I  hain't  no  call  to  bore  ye  coz  ye  're  tough  ; 
My  lungs  are  sound,  an'  our  own  v'ice  delights 
Our  ears,  but  even  kebbige-heads  hez  rights. 
It  's  the  las'  time  thet  I  shell  e'er  address  ye, 
But  you  '11  soon  fin'  some  new  tormentor  :  bless 

ye! 

[Tumult'ous    applause    and    cries  of   "Go    on!"     "Don't 
stop!  "] 


INDEX. 


A. 

A.  wants  his  axe  ground,  191. 

Abraham  (Lincoln),  his  constitu 
tional  scruples,  190. 

Abuse,  an,  its  usefulness,  229. 

Adam,  his  fall,  244  —  how  if 
he  had  bitten  a  sweet  apple  ? 
256. 

Adam,  grandfather,  forged  will 
of,  153. 

Allsmash,  the  eternal,  204. 

Americans  bebrothered,  137. 

Antiquaries,  Royal  Society  of 
Northern,  213. 

Antony  of  Padua,  Saint,  happy 
in  his  hearers,  165. 

Applause,  popular,  the  summum 
bonum,  220. 

Ar  c'  houskezik,  an  evil  spirit, 
165. 

Ardennes,  Wild  Boar  of,  an  an 
cestor  of  Rev.  Mr.  Wilbur, 
101. 

Aristocracy,  British,  their  natu 
ral  sympathies,  1S3. 

Atropos,  a  lady  skilful  with  the 
scissors,  2.53. 

Austin,  Saint,  prayer  of,  100. 

Austrian  eagle  split,  230. 


B. 

B.,  a  Congressman,  vide,  A. 

Bacon,  his  rebellion,  163. 

Bacon,  Lord,  quoted,  167,  170. 

Balcom,  Elder  Joash  Q.,  2d, 
founds  a  Baptist  society  in 
Jaalam,  A.  D.  1830,  277. 

Bartlett,  Mr.,  mistaken,  130. 

Beast,  tenth  horn  of,  applied  to 
recent  events,  249. 


Beaufort,  207. 

Beauregard  (real  name  Toutant), 
143,  189. 

Beaver,  brook,  291. 

Belm,  Mr.  Aphra,  quoted,  168. 

Bentley,  his  heroic  method  with 
Milton,  214. 

Bible,  not  composed  for  use  of 
colored  persons,  176. 

Biglow,  Hosea,  Esquire,  his  la 
bors  in  writing  autographs,  99 

—  visits  the  Judge  and  has  a 
pleasant  time,   130  —  born    in 
Middlesex    County,    143  — his 
favorite  walks,  ib.  —  his  gifted 
pen,   200  —  born  and  bred  in 
the     country,    236  —  feels   his 
sap  start     in    spring,   238  — is 
at  times    unsocial,    239  —  the 
school-house  where  he  learned 
his  a-b-c,    240  —  falls    asleep, 
241  —  his  ancestor  a  Crorawel- 
liau     colonel,     242  —  finds    it 
harder  to  make  up  his  mind  as 
he  grows  older,  244  —  wishes 
he  could  write  a  song  or  two, 
255  — liable  to  moods,  287  — 
loves  nature  and  is  loved   in 
return,   288  —  describes  some 
favorite  haunts  of  his,  289-291 

—  his  slain  kindred,  291,  292  — 
his  speech  in  March  meeting, 
295  —  does  not  reckon  on  being 
sent  to  Congress,  299  —  has  no 
eloquence,   16.  —  his  own   re 
porter,  301  — never  abused  the 
South,  303  —  advise  Uncle  Sam, 
ib.  — is  not    Boston-mad,   305 

—  bids  farewell,  316. 

Billy,  Extra,  demagogue,    208, 

269. 
Bjarua       OrimuUssou,     invents 

smoking,  216. 


318 


INDEX. 


Bobolink,  the,  238. 

Boggs,  a  Norman  name,  181. 

Bogus  Four-Corners  Weekly  Me 
ridian,  218. 

Bonds,  Confederate,  their  specie 
basis  cutlery,  117  —  when  pay 
able  (attention,  British  stock 
holders  !),  204. 

Boston  has  a  good  opinion  of 
itself,  145. 

Bowers,  Mr.  Arphaxad,  an  ingen 
ious  photographic  artist,  213. 

Brains,  poor  substitute  for,  147. 

Bream,  their  only  business,  130. 

Brigadiers,  nursing  ones,  ten 
dency  in  to  literary  composi 
tion,  108. 

Brigitta,  viridis,  207. 

Britannia,  her  trident,  159. 

Brotherhood,  subsides  after  elec 
tion,  227. 

Brutus  Four-Corners,  101. 

Buchanan,  a  wise  and  honest 
man,  183. 

Buffaloes,  herd  of,  probable  in 
fluence  of  tracts  upon,  256. 

Bull,  John,  prophetic  allusion  to 
by  Horace,  135  —  his  "Run," 
143  —  his  mortgage,  153 — un 
fortunate  dip  of,  204  —  wool 
pulled  over  his  eyes,  20G. 

Buncombe,  mutual  privilege  in, 
189. 

Burke,  Mr.,  his  age  of  chivalry 
surpassed,  179. 

Burleigli,  Lord,  quoted  for  some 
thing  said  in  Latin  long  before, 
169. 

Burns,  Robert,  a  Scottish  poet, 
129. 

Bushy  Brook,  173. 

Butler,  Bishop,  199. 


C. 

Cabbage-heads,  the,  always  in 
majority,  300. 

Cabinet,  English,  makes  a  blun 
der,  139. 

Calyboosus,  career,  272. 

Canaan  in  quarterly  instalments, 
220. 

Captains,  choice  of,  important, 
302. 

Carolina,  foolish  act  of,  302. 

Caroline,  case  of,  137. 

Century,  nineteenth,  184. 


Chamberlayne,  Doctor,  consola 
tory  citation  from,  170. 

Chance,  an  apothegm  concern 
ing,  107  —  is  impatient,  246. 

Chaplain,  a  one-horse,  stern- 
wheeled  variety  of,  114. 

Charles  I.,  accident  to  his  neck, 
245. 

Charles  II.,  his  restoration,  how 
brought  about,  245. 

Cicero,  300. 

Cincinnati,  old,  law  and  order 
party  of,  230. 

Clotho,  a  Grecian  lady,  253. 

Columbians,  the  true  fifteen-inch 
ones,  226. 

Columbus  will  perhaps  be  re 
membered,  212 — Columbus, 
thought  by  some  to  have  dis 
covered  America,  307. 

Compromise  system,  the,  illus 
trated,  223. 

Conciliation,  its  meaning,  256. 

Congress,  a  stumbling-block,  188. 

Co-operation  defined,  182. 

Corduroy-road,  a  novel  one,  109. 

Corner-stone,  patent  safety,  187. 

Cotton  loan,  its  imaginary  na 
ture,  116. 

Country,  Earth's  biggest,  gets  a 
soul,  261. 

Court,  Supreme,  190. 

Courts  of  law,  English,  their  or 
thodoxy,  219. 

Cousins,  British,  our  ci-devant, 
139. 

Credit  defined,  205. 

Creditors  all  on  Lincoln's  side, 
187. 

Crockett,  a  good  rule  of,  118. 

Cruden,  Alexander,  his  Concord 
ance,  102. 

Currency,  Etliiopian,  inconven 
iences  of,  118. 

Cynthia,  her  hide  as  a  means  of 
conversion,  125. 


D. 

Daedalus  first  tauglit  men  to  sit 

on  fences,  171. 
Daniel  in  the  lion's  den,  112. 
Darkies,  dread  freedom,  187. 
Davis,  Captain   Isaac,  finds  out 

something    to  his  advantage, 

144. 
Davis,  Jefferson  (a  new  species 


INDEX. 


319 


of  martyr),  has  the  latest  ideas 
on  all  subjects,  117  —  superior 
in  financiering  to  patriarch 
Jacob,  119 — is  some,  185  — 
carries  Constitution  in  his  hat, 
188  —  knows  how  to  deal  with 
his  Congress,  188  —  astonished 


—  his    snake    egg,     225 — the 
blood  on  his  hands,  292. 

De  Bow  (a  famous  political  econ 
omist),  179. 
Democracy,  false  notion  of,  192 

—  its  privileges,  258. 
Demosthenes,  300. 
Dixie,  the  land  of,  187. 

Doe,  Hon.  Preserved,  speech  of, 
219-231. 

Downing  Street,  134. 

Dreams,  something  about,  241, 
242. 

D wight,  President,  a  hymn  un 
justly  attributed  to,  248. 


E. 

Eagle,  national,  the  late,  his  es 
tate  administered  upon,  122. 

Edwards,  Jonathan,  282. 

Eggs,  bad,  the  worst  sort  of, 
230,  231. 

Emerson,  130. 

Emilitis,  Paulus,  140. 

Enfield's  Speaker,  abuse  of,  229. 

England,  late  Mother-Country, 
her  want  of  tact,  131  —  merits 
as  a  lecturer,  133  —  her  real 
greatness  not  to  be  forgotten, 
140  —  not  contented  (unwisely) 
with  her  own  stock  of  fools, 
146  —  natural  maker  of  inter 
national  law,  147  — her  theory 
thereof,  148 — makes  a  partic 
ularly  disagreeable  kind  of 
sarse,  ib.  —  somewhat  given  to 
bullying,  149  —  has  respecta 
ble  relations,  159  —  ought  to 
be  Columbia's  friend,  151. 

Epimenides,  the  Cretan  Rip  Van 
Winkle,  165. 

Ericsson,  his  caloric  engine,  125. 

Eriksson,  Thorwald,  slain  by  na 
tives,  218. 

Essence  peddlers,  192. 

Ethiopian,  the,  his  first  need,  199. 


Ezekiel  would  make  a  poor  fig 
ure  at  a  caucus,  233. 


F. 

Faber,  Johannes,  283. 

Facts,  their  uuamiability,  209  — 

compared  to  an  old-fashioned 

stage-coach,  221. 
Falstajfii,  legio,  268. 
Family-trees,  a  primitive  forest 

of,  223. 

Fenianorum,  rim,  267. 
Fergusson,   his    "Mutual   Com 
plaint,"  &c.,  129. 
F.  F.,  singular  power  of   their 

looks,  187. 
Fitz,  Miss  Partheuia  Almira,  a 

sheresiarch,  279. 
Flirt,  Mrs.,  168. 
Flirtilla,  elegy  on  death  of,  281. 
Floyd,  a  taking  character,  204. 
F/oydus,  furcijer,  268. 
Fool,   a  cursed,  his   inalienable 

rights,  259. 
Fourth  of  July,  ought  to  know 

its  place,  227. 
France  about  to  put  her  foot  in 

it,  186. 
Friar,  John,  138. 


O. 

Gabriel,  his  last  trump,  its  press 
ing  nature,  222. 

Gardiner,  Lieutenant  Lion,  143. 

Gentleman,  high-toned  South 
ern,  scientifically  classed,  171. 

Geese,  how  infallibly  to  make 
swans  of,  14G. 

Gideon,  his  sword  needed,  155. 

Gilbert,  Sir  Humphrey,  217. 

God,  the  only  honest  dealer,  161. 

Goings,  Mehetable,  unfounded 
claim  of,  disproved,  131. 

Governor,  our  excellent,  100. 

Grandfather,  Mr.  Biglow's,  safe 
advice  of,  144. 

Grandfathers,  the,  knew  some 
thing,  155. 

Grand  jurors,  Southern,  their 
way  of  finding  a  true  bill,  113. 

Grantus,  Dux,  269. 

Gravestones,  the  evidence  of 
Dissenting  ones  held  doubtful, 
219. 


320 


INDEX. 


H. 

Habeas  corpus,  new  mode  of  sus 
pending  it,  202. 

Hail  Columbia,  raised,  113. 

Ham,  his  seed,  175  — their  privi 
lege  in  the  Bible,  ib.  —  im 
moral  justification  of,  177. 

Hampton  Roads,  disaster  in,  199. 

Hat,  a  leaky  one,  116. 

Hawkins,  his  whetstone,  125. 

Hawthorne,  130. 

Hay-rick,  electrical  experiments 
with,  258. 

Headlong,  General,  140. 

Hell,  the  opinion  of  some  con 
cerning,  241  —  breaks  loose, 

Hens,  self-respect  attributed  to, 
108. 

Herb,  the  Circean,  218. 

Herbert,  George,  next  to  David, 
166. 

Hermon,  fourth  proof  dew  of, 
175. 

Hessians,  native  American  sol 
diers,  189. 

Hickory,  Old,  his  method,  257. 

Higgses,  their  natural  aristoc 
racy  of  feeling,  180. 

Hitchcock,  the  Rev.  Jeduthun, 
colleague  of  Mr.  Wilbur,  101  — 
letter  from,  containing  notices 
of  Mr.  Wilbur,  247  — ditto,  en 
closing  macaronic  verses,  262 
—  teacher  of  high-school,  283. 

Hitchcock,  Doctor,  214. 

Hogs,  their  dreams,  108. 

Holiday,  blindman's,  316. 

Holmes,  Dr.,  author  of  "Annals 
of  America,"  100. 

Homer,  eldest  son  of  Mr.  Wilbur, 
281. 

Hotels,  big  ones,  humbugs,  156. 

House,  a  strange  one  described, 
107. 

Huldah,  her  bonnet,  244. 


I. 

Icelander,   a  certain  uncertain, 

217. 
Idea,  the   Southern,   its   natural 

foes,  206  —  the  true  American, 

305. 

Ideas,  friction  ones  unsafe,  228. 
Idyl,  defined,  128. 


Indecision,  mole-blind,  304. 
Ishmael,  young,  156. 


J. 

Jaalam,  unjustly  neglected  by 
great  events,  217. 

Jaalam,  East  Parish  of,  101. 

Jricobus  rer,  268. 

Jamaica,  303. 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  well-mean 
ing  but  injudicious,  228. 

Jerusha,  ex-Mrs.  Sawin,  121. 

Jeremiah  hardly  the  best  guide 
in  modern  politics,  233. 

Johnson.  Andrew,  as  he  used  to 
be,  226  — as  he  is.  See  Ar 
nold,  Benedict. 

Jonah,  his  gourd,  178  —  his  una 
nimity  in  the  whale,  184. 

Jonathan  to  John,  157. 

Journals,  British,  their  brutal 
tone,  132. 

Juanito,  212. 

Judea  not  identical  with  A.  D., 
245. 

Judge,  the,  his  garden,  130  —  his 
hat  covers  many  things,  ib. 


L. 

Lablache  surpassed,  196. 

Laura,  exploited,  281. 

Learning,  three-story,  240. 

Letcher,  de  In  vieille  roche,  181. 

Letcherus,  nebulo,  268. 

Lettres  Cabalistiques,  quoted, 
135. 

Lexington,  143. 

Licking,  when  constitutional, 
190. 

Lincoln,  too  shrewd  to  hang  Ma 
son  and  Slidell,  208. 

Literature,  Southern,  its  abun 
dance,  181. 

Little  Big  Boosy  River,  120. 

Lord,  inexpensive  way  of  lending 
to,  116. 

Lords,  Southern,  prove  pur  sang 
by  ablution,  179. 

Lyceus,  271. 

M. 

Magoffin,  a  name  naturally  noble. 
181. 


INDEX. 


321 


Mandeville,    Sir    John,    quoted, 

135. 

Maori  chieftains,  132. 
Mapes,   Walter,    quoted,    138  — 

paraphrased,  ib. 
Marias,  quoted,  170. 
Mason  an  F.  F.  V.,  208. 
Mason     and    Slidell,    how    they 

might  have  been  made  at  once 

useful  and  ornamental,  208. 
Maury,    an     intellectual     giant, 

twin  birth  with  Simins  (which 

see),  182. 

Mayday  a  humbug,  235. 
Me,   Mister,    a    queer  creature, 

238. 

Medium,  ardentispirituale,  2GG. 
Mediums,      spiritual,      dreadful 

liars,  243. 

Memminger,  old,  118. 
Middleton,  Thomas,  quoted,  168. 
Mill,  Stuart,  his  low  ideas,  206. 
Millenniums,    apt    to   miscarry, 

200. 

Millspring,  207. 
Mills,  Josiah's,  239. 
Milton,  an  English  poet,   214  — 

his  "  Hymn  of  the  Nativity," 

250. 
Missionaries,  useful  to  alligators, 

109  —  culinary     liabilities    of, 

170. 

Montezuma,  licked,  110. 
Montaigne,  283. 
Moody,    Seth,    his     remarkable 

gun,  121  —  his  brother  Asaph, 

ib. 
Moquis     Indians,    praiseworthy 

custom  of,  216. 
Moses  (not  A.  J.  Moses),  prudent 

way  of  following,  220. 
Muse  invoked,  266. 


K. 

Nana  Sahib,  134. 

Nancy,  presumably  Mrs.  Biglow, 
143. 

Napoleon  III.,  his  new  chairs, 
201. 

Nation,  young,  its  first  needs, 
203. 

Negroes,  their  double  useful 
ness,  119  — getting  too  current, 
204. 

New  World,  apostrophe  to,  156. 

Nicotiana  Tabacum,  a  weed,  216. 


Noblemen,  Nature's,  183. 
North,   the,   its  mind   naturally 

unprincipled,  228. 
Northern  Dagon,  122. 
Northmen,     gens    inclytissima, 

Notre  Dame  de  la  Haine,  172. 
Nowhere,  march  to,  240. 
Now,  its  merits,  240. 


O. 

O'Brien,  Smith,  134. 
Old  age,  an  advantage  of,  127. 
Old  One  invoked,  196. 
Onesimus    made    to    serve    the 

cause  of  impiety,  177. 
Opinion,  British,  its  worth  to  us, 

139. 
Opinions,  certain  ones  compared 

to  winter  flies,  166. 
Ovidil  Xasonis,  carmen  supposi- 

titium,  266. 


P. 

Paley,  his  Evidences,  313. 

Panurge,  138. 

Paper,  plausible-looking,  wanted, 
203. 

Patriarchs,  the,  illiterate,  124. 

Patricius,  brogipotens,  267. 

People,  the,  decline  to  be  Mexi- 
cauized,  221. 

Pepperell,  General,  quoted,  142. 

Pequash  Junction,  283. 

Perley,  Mr.  Asaph,  has  charge  of 
bass-viol,  1G4. 

Perseus,  King,  his  avarice,  141. 

Petrarch,  exploited  Laura,  281. 

Petronius,  138. 

Pettiboue,  Jabez,  bursts  up,  182. 

Pettus,  came  over  with  Wilhel- 
mus  Conquistor,  181. 

Phaon,  281. 

Pharaoh,  his  lean  kine,  155. 

Phillips,  Wendell,  catches  a  Tar 
tar,  230. 

Pickens,  a  Norman  name,  181. 

Pilcoxes,  genealogy  of,  101. 

Pilgrim  Father,  apparition  of, 
242. 

Pine-trees,  their  sympathy,  239. 

Poets  apt  to  become  sophisti 
cated,  235. 

Polk,  nomen  gentile,  181. 


322 


INDEX. 


Pomp,  a  negro,  108. 

Portico,  the,  278. 

Power,  a  first-class,  elements  of, 
201. 

President,  the,  his  policy,  306  — 
his  resemblance  to  Jackson, 
ib. 

Princes,  mix  cocktails,  201. 

Principles,  when  useless,  226. 

Professor,  Latin,  in  Col 
lege,  2C5  — Scaliger,  266. 

Prophecies,  fulfilment  of,  208. 

Prospect  Hill,  144. 

Providence  has  a  natural  life- 
preserver,  156. 

Psyche,  poor,  286. 

Punkiii  Falls  "  Weekly  Paral 
lel,"  249. 

Putnam,  General  Israel,  his 
lines,  144. 

Q. 

Quid,  ingens  nicotianum,  270. 


R. 

Rafn,  Professor,  213. 

Religion,  Southern,  its  commer 
cial  advantages,  172. 

Ricos  Hombres,  169. 

Ringtail  Rangers,  123. 

Roanoke  Island,  207. 

Roosters  in  rainy  weather,  their 
misery,  107. 

Rotation  insures  mediocrity  and 
inexperience,  191. 

Royal  Society,  American  fellows 
of,  249. 

Rum  and  water  combine  kindly, 
221. 

Runes  resemble  bird-tracks,  214. 

Runic  inscriptions,  their  differ 
ent  grades  of  unintelligibility, 
and  consequent  value,  213. 

Russell,  Earl,  is  good  enough  to 
expound  our  Constitution  for 
us,  133. 

Ryeus,  Bacchi  epitheton,  271. 


Sailors,   their  rights    how  won, 

269. 

Samuel,  avunculus,  269. 
Samuel,     Uncle,      112— makes 


some  shrewd  guesses,  157-162 

—  expects  his  boots,  183. 
Sappho,  some  human  nature  in, 

281. 

Sassy  Cus,  an  impudent  Indian, 
143. 

Satan,  his  worst  pitfall,  177. 

Sawin,  Honorable  B.  O'F.,  a  vein 
of  humor  suspected  in,  103  — 
gets  into  an  enchanted  castle, 
107 — finds  a  wooden  leg  bet 
ter  in  some  respects  than  a  liv 
ing  one,  109  —  takes  something 
hot,  110  —  his  experience  of 
Southern  hospitality,  110-113 

—  water-proof   internally,  112 

—  sentenced  to  ten  years'  im 
prisonment,   113  —  his  liberal- 
haudedness,  116  —  gets  his  ar 
rears  of  pension,  117  — marries 
the  Widow  Shannon, 119  —  con 
fiscated,  122  —  finds  in  himself 
a  natural  necessity  of  income, 
123  —  his  missionary  zeal,  125 

—  never  a  stated  attendant  on 
Mr.  Wilbur's  preaching,  164  — 
sang   bass  in  choir,  ib.  —  pru 
dently    avoided     contribution 
toward  bell,  ib.  —  abhors  a  cov 
enant  of  works,  173  —  if  saved 
at  all,  must  be  saved  genteelly, 
174  —  reports  a  sermon,   175- 
177  —  experiences  religion,  178 
• —  would    consent  to   a  duke 
dom,  179  —  converted  to  una 
nimity,   184  —  sound  views  of, 
190-192  —  makes    himself    an 
extempore  marquis,   193  —  ex 
tract  of  letter  from,  242-247  — 
his  opinion  of  Paddies,  244  — 
of  Johnson,  246. 

Scrimgour,  Rev.  Shearjashub, 
203. 

Sea,  the  wormy,  135. 

Secessia,  licta,  269. 

Secession,  its  legal  nature  de 
fined,  123. 

Secret,  a  great  military,  153. 

Seneca,  quoted,  175. 

Sermons,  some  pitched  too  high, 
165. 

Seward,  Mister,  the  late,  his 
gift  of  prophecy,  144  —  needs 
stiffening,  234  —  misunder 
stands  parable  of  fatted  calf, 
ib. 

Seymour,  Governor,  257. 

Shakespeare,  209. 


INDEX. 


323 


Shannon,  Mra.,  a  widow,  115  — 
her  family  and  accomplish 
ments,  120 —  has  tantrums,  1'21 

—  her  religious  views,  174,  175 

—  her  notions  of  a  moral  and 
intellectual    being ,    178  —  her 
maiden  name,   179  —  her  blue 
blood,  ib. 

Shiraz    Centre,    lead -mine    at, 

182. 

Shirley,  Governor,  142. 
Shoddy,  poor  covering  for  outer 

or  inner  man,  245. 
Shot  at  sight,  privilege  of  being, 

183. 
Skim-milk  has  its  own  opinions, 

243. 
Skippers,   Yankee,   busy  in  the 

slave-trade,  176. 
Simms,     an    intellectual    giant, 

twin-birth  with  Maury  (which 

see),  182. 

Slidell,  New  York  trash,  209. 
Smithius,  dux,  207. 
Sloanshure,  Habakkuk,  Esquire, 

President     of    Jaalam    Bank, 

195. 
Soft-heartedness,     misplaced    is 

soft-headedness,  259. 
Soldiers,    British,   ghosts  of,  in 
subordinate,  145. 
Solomon,  Song  of,  portions  of  it 

done  into  Latin  verse  by  Mr. 

Wilbur,  264. 
Soul,    injurious     properties   of, 

192. 
South,  the,  its  natural  eloquence, 

229  —  facts  have  a  mean  spite 

against,  209. 
South    Carolina,  her  pedigrees, 

169. 
Southern  men,  their  imperfect 

notions  of  labor,  113  —  of  sub 
scriptions,  116  —  too  high- 
pressure,  125 — prima  facie 

noble,  181. 
Spirit-rapping  does  not  repay  the 

spirits  engaged  in  it,  243. 
Split-Foot,  Old,  made  to  squirm, 

125. 

Spring,  described,  236-238. 
Statesman,    a  genuine,  defined, 

227. 
Stearns,   Othniel,  fable  by,  309, 

310. 

Stone  Spike,  the,  145. 
Style,  the  catalogue,  238. 
Sumpter,  shame  of,  153. 


Sunday,    should    mind    its  own 

business,  227. 
Swett,  Jethro  C.,  his  fall,  295. 


T. 

Taney,  C.  J.,  190. 

Tarandfeather,  Rev.  Mr.,  185. 

Tarbox  Shearjashub,  first  white 
child  born  in  Jaalam,  131. 

Tartars,  Mongrel,  111. 

Teapots,  how  made  dangerous, 
255. 

Ten,  the  upper,  184. 

Thacker,  Rev.  Preserved,  D.  D., 
247. 

Thanksgiving,  Feejee,  111. 

Theleme,  Abbey  of,  196. 

Theocritus,  the  inventor  of  idyl 
lic  poetry,  128. 

Theory,  denned,  220. 

Thermopyles,  too  many,  207. 

"They  '11  say  "  a  notable  bully, 
151. 

Thoreau,  130. 

Thoughts,  live  ones  character 
ized,  288. 

Tibullus,  253. 

Tinkham,  Deacon  Pelatiah,  story 
concerning,  not  told,  106  — 
alluded  to,  127  —  does  a  very 
sensible  thing,  173. 

Toombs,  a  doleful  sound  from, 
209. 

Tuileries,  front-parlor  of,  201. 

Tunnel,  northwest-passage,  a 
poor  investment,  195. 

Turkey-Buzzard  Roost,  120. 

Tuscaloosa,  120. 

Tutchel,  Rev.  Jonas,  a  Sadducee, 
218. 

Tylerus,  jurenis  insignis,  267  — 
porphyrogenitus,  268  —  Johan- 
nides,  flito  celeris,  270  —  bene 
tilus,  271. 

Tyrants,  European,  how  made  to 
tremble,  115. 


U. 

Ulysses,  ret,  267. 

Unanimity,  new  ways  of  produc 
ing,  184. 

Union,  its  hoops  off,  183  —  its 
good  old  meaning,  222. 

Universe,  its  breeching,  186. 


324 


INDEX. 


Us,  nobody  to  be  compared  with, 
116,  and  see  World,  passim. 


V. 

Vattel,  as  likely  to  fall  on  your 
toes  as  on  mine,  158. 

Victoria,  Queen,  her  best  car 
pets,  201. 

Vinland,  217. 

Virginia,  descripla,  267,  270. 

Virginians,  their  false  heraldry, 
167. 

Voltaire,  esprit  de,  26C. 


W. 

Wachuset  Mountain,  151. 

Wait,  General,  140. 

Wales,  Prince  of,  calls  Brother 
Jonathan  consanguine.us  nos 
ier,  137  —  but  had  not,  appar 
ently,  consulted  the  Garter 
King  at  Arras,  ib. 

Warren,  Fort,  255. 

Wrrtchmanus,  noctivagus,  111. 

We,  240. 

Weakwash,  a  name  fatally  typ 
ical,  143. 

Webster,  his  unabridged  quarto, 
its  deleteriousness,  264. 

Wickliffe,  Robert,  consequences 
of  his  bursting,  255. 

Wilbur,  Mrs.  Dorcas  (Pilcox), 
tribute  to,  249. 

Wilbur,  Eev.  Homer,  M.  A.,  his 
modesty,  97  —  disclaims  sole 
authorship  of  Mr.  Biglow's 
writings,  98  —  his  low  opinion 
of  prepensive  autographs,  100 

—  a  chaplain   in    1812,   104  — 
cites  a  heathen  comedian,  ib. 

—  his  fondness  for  the  Book  of 


Job,  ib.  — preaches  a  Fast-day 
discourse,  105  —  is  prevented 
from  narrating  a  singular  oc 
currence,  106  —  is  presented 
with  a  pair  of  new  spectacles, 
126 —  his  church  services  in 
decorously  sketched  by  Mr. 
Sawin,  177  —  hopes  to  decipher 
a  Runic  inscription,  194  —  a 
fable  by,  195-198  —  deciphers 
Runic  inscription,  211-217  — 
his  method  therein,  215  —  is 
ready  to  reconsider  his  opin 
ion  of  tobacco,  218  —  his  opin 
ion  of  the  Puritans,  233  —  his 
death,  247  —  born  in  Pigsgus- 
set,  ib.  —  letter  of  Rev.  Mr. 
Hitchcock  concerning,  247-249 

—  fond  of  Milton's  Christmas 
hymn,     250  —  his     monument 
(proposed),  251  —  his  epitaph, 

ib.  —  his  last    letter,  251-255 

—  his    supposed    disembodied 
spirit,    262  —  table     belonging 
to,     263  —  sometimes     wrote 
Latin   verses,   264  —  his  table- 
talk,  273-285 —  his  prejudices, 
^77  —  againat    Baptists,   ib.  — 
his    sweet     nature,    295  —  his 
views  of  style,  298  —  a  story  of 
his,  300. 

Wilkes,  Captain,  borrows  rashly, 
146. 

Wingfield,  his  "Memorial,"  171. 

Works,  covenants  of,  condemned, 
173. 

World,  this,  its  unhappy  tem 
per,  108. 

Writing  dangerous  to  reputation, 
102. 

Y. 

Yankees,  their  worst  wooden 
nutmegs,  210. 


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